


War in the Shadow of Wings

by tangentiallyTJ



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Dubious Consent, F/M, M/M, Multi, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 74,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1384111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangentiallyTJ/pseuds/tangentiallyTJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Being Human in the Shadow of Wings<br/>Hal and Lena, Tom and Alex have reached a point of nearly human normality. It won't last. Enemies already plot against them...<br/>Toby Whithouse is a genius and I'm thankful for his creation of the Being Human universe. It is my favorite playground!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. At Home

Sweet normality reigned at Honolulu Heights.

Tom and Alex went to work at the Barry Grand at least five days a week and sometimes stopped in, just to see how things were going, on their days off. Tom managed his new hires and charmed the hotel’s new guests with his honest courtesy and joy at their presence. He set a high standard for customer service that his employees strove to match.

Alex could become fully tangible and remain physically present for several hours at a time when she chose to do so. She quietly managed the housekeeping staff, some of whom had stayed with the hotel through the Hatch debacle and subsequent renovation. They were comfortable with her moments of varying tangibility and easily accepted her supervision because she was one of them. They saw her as a friend and an asset to the hotel, and they knew that she would defend them against any attempted impropriety by a guest.

Alex had a way of knowing when trouble was about to occur and appearing just in time to stop it. Lena had worked with her through the months of their growing friendship and had taught her to sense the environment around her in a way that neither Tom nor Hal could. Alex couldn’t see what Lena saw, but she could feel the ripples of disquiet when something wasn’t quite right in her surroundings. She knew the hotel so well that it was easy for her to pick up on disharmony in and around the building, and she was quick to rent-a-ghost to the location of disharmony and set things right.

She checked her ‘Alex Box’ for requests and occasionally indulged guests in displays of her superpowers, as long as there was no harmful intent. She declined requests to ‘scare the pants off’ any of the hotel guests. Without really trying, Alex was becoming one of the hotel’s star attractions.

The Barry Grand’s recent history was an open secret, and most people assumed that Alex was the ghost of one of Hatch’s victims. People like to think that reason controls the world, even while facing chaos and madness, and Alex’s presence needed a reason that people could accept. Her story became that of a hotel housekeeper whom Hatch killed, and whose ghost remained at the hotel to protect its people from future harm. The Honolulu Heights family was happy to let that gentler fiction take the place of the truth, as it protected them from scrutiny.

Hal was living the closest thing to a normal life he’d ever experienced. During his brief years of humanity Hal hadn’t known security, comfort, friendship, or family. The simplest things that children need to flourish had been withheld from him, and he’d grown to manhood without experiencing the love and safety he’d craved. He’d found those things, briefly, with Nastusia; he found them again with Lena. In her company he could push aside the dark centuries of vampirism, with its obscene parodies of family, friendship, and security, and just be himself.

The challenge for Hal was learning what kind of man he was, with the pull of blood removed. He’d become ambitious, devious, murderous, and more as a vampire. As he looked within himself Hal came to accept that he’d been ambitious, devious, and not opposed to killing as a human as well. He’d left the brothel and England determined to make something of himself in the world and willing to do almost anything to improve his circumstances. The vampire had simply elevated those aspects of his character; it hadn’t placed them in him.

The ‘good Hal’ that he despised as weak and futile was no more than a mechanism to deal with the baser aspects of his own human nature. Because the vampire had strengthened his evil proclivities, he’d developed a ridiculously rigid countermeasure to keep them in check. With the hunger controlled, the countermeasure was no longer necessary. ‘Good Hal’ was a thing of the past, and he was glad to be rid of him.

As Hal came to grips with himself he also came to grips with the truth that Lena knew him better than any other creature on earth. She recognized his ambition and gave him work to match it. For months she’d brought him into every aspect of her business, hiding nothing from him. She trusted him and considered him her first advisor, and her board of directors had been required to recognize him as her de facto partner.

Hal’s hard-fought business acumen had saved his life and served him well through the centuries. He’d quickly learned that human minds tend to run in a limited number of circuits, and once an understanding of those circuits had been gained, human behavior had become easy for him to predict. A vampire could go far if he applied the lessons he’d learned during his extensive history, especially when he enhanced his insight with a fine appreciation of violence as a negotiating tactic. Hal had risen as high in vampire hierarchy as he wanted.

Lena’s business acumen was beyond any he’d ever seen, however. The depth of her experience and understanding of human nature gave her an edge, so when she sought his advice he took her very seriously. She tended toward generosity in her decision-making, where Hal was firmly fixed on self-interest. Their disagreements served to moderate them both.  

Lena also recognized his devious tendencies, enjoyed them, and occasionally put them to use. Hal suspected that she could out-maneuver anyone on the planet, including him if required, and considered his ability to plan multiple strategies for a single intended outcome to be a complement to her own.

Hal found his greatest liberation in the fact that she had no qualms about his killer instinct and admitted that she enjoyed killing with him. In his good cycles his violent tendencies had horrified him, but with his lady it was just a matter of murdering the appropriate type of being at the appropriate time. Killing Hetty’s vampire horde had been the most exhilarating hand-to-hand combat Hal had ever experienced. Torturing and killing Andrzej, the Seraphin Nepos who’d betrayed them both centuries before, had been very satisfying. He was happy to let Lena choose their next target and he trusted that she would make use of his skills at every opportunity.

Lena watched her family and reveled in their successes and in their growth. She’d withheld herself from relationships for so long, and this cobbled-together family she’d inadvertently helped create was so unique! She couldn’t help but enjoy every moment of it. Lena knew the tenuousness of life; she knew that she only had decades at most in which to enjoy Tom, and she expected the same was true of Alex. At least this time she would have a partner to share her grief when her family members went through their doors—Hal would remain with her always.

She accepted the fact that she was in a holding pattern of sorts. She hunted regularly and removed all the curses and demon-driven activity she could from their home area. Barry, Cardiff, in fact most of South Wales enjoyed a season of happiness and safety because of her activities. She searched for signs of vampire activity, but found none.

She told nobody about the subtly growing darkness she felt at the edge of her consciousness.

Something was coming. Something was coming for her.

===

They were seated around the dining table with tea, spreadsheets, receipt books, purchase orders, and employee records. Tom was deep into one of his regular lessons on business management. Hal was directing with occasional comments from Lena. Alex listened because she wanted to be prepared to help Tom as much as possible in his position as manager of a newly-renovated, popular hotel. That was their hope and belief, anyway. Tom refused to consider the possibility that his Barry Grand could be anything less than wildly popular.

Hal enjoyed working with Tom on his studies for several reasons; he could use his ill-gotten business experience for a good purpose; it kept him involved in the hotel; he got to spend time with his best mate. To Hal’s surprise, Tom had become a quick study who could use the context of his own youthful experiences to help him understand most situations. He didn’t always grasp the complexities of human nature, but he understood the need to make the best use of what he had available and he had learned to plan for the future. Tom’s maturity was evident in his thoughtful approach to his lessons.

He was also an eager student with the tact not to inquire as to how Hal came by his business acumen. Some questions are best left unasked.

They’d yet to come down to brass tacks on financial management because the Grand hadn’t been operating autonomously. Tom had simply signed for deliveries or sent the bills to Lena’s corporate office. With the renovation complete, Lena saw no reason not to place the business in Tom’s hands and let him run it as an independent entity. With that goal in mind, Tom’s lessons had become more focused on the details of financial management.

Hal expected Tom to be put off by the sedentary nature of the tasks and confused by the details of recordkeeping, but he was mistaken. He introduced the weekly operating report, with its list of expenses versus revenue and notation of profit or reason for lack of it, and waited for Tom’s reaction.

“It’s like buildin’ a bomb, Hal. You need all the parts, don’tcha? You have to line ‘em up and put ‘em together in the right order. If you’re missing a bit it just won’t work, will it? If you put it together wrong, you get nothin’ or you blow yourself up before you’re done. But if you do it right, with the right ingredients in the right amounts, and parts that do their jobs—well, it works.”

Tom pointed to the pile of papers that he had to use to complete the report. “Here’s all the pieces. I put all of these in place and at the end of the report I see if I did it right. I see if I put it all together the way I should’ve this week. If I did right by the hotel. And if I didn’t, this report will tell me what I need more or less of. It’ll tell me what parts aren’t working like they’re supposed to.”

Hal gaped at Tom for a moment. He couldn’t help it. The young man’s unique perspective on life still surprised him.

“Yes, Tom, that is an excellent example,” he finally said.

“Good. I need to know how the Grand is doing so I can see how to make it better,” Tom said. “I’ve always made me own way. Don’t expect someone else to do a job you can do for yourself. McNair said. But I need to know what I’m up against. How much did the reno cost? What do I owe you, Lena?”

“Nothing, Tom. That’s not how it works,” Lena replied.

“How does it work, then?”

“A major renovation is a short-term project with a long-term reward. We expect it to take years to pay back the initial expense.”

“But what is the ‘initial expense’?”

Lena shrugged. She didn’t know and didn’t really care. To her mind the renovation had been necessary to clear Hatch’s remnants from the hotel and give it a fresh start. She was a ‘big picture’ businesswoman who dealt with details when required, and in this case it hadn’t been required.

Hal was able to give Tom the figures immediately, both the cost of the renovation and the additional expense of keeping the hotel staffed while there were no paying guests. Tom paled at the figures. It was even more than he’d expected.

“How’m I ever gonna pay that back?”

“By managing the hotel as efficiently as possible while treating your guests as well as possible. A full hotel will repay those expenses in short order, Tom.” Hal was prompt in his reply. In his mind, this was all part of the lesson Tom needed to learn.

“Tom, you’re the hotel manager. Paying off the renovation isn’t your job. As the owner, that’s my job,” Lena reminded him.

Tom shook his head stubbornly. Her answer wasn’t good enough for him. “When you came here, you said you bought the hotel and the house so you could control the environment around Hal, but he hasn’t worked at the hotel since you came. Why’d you want to renovate it, anyway? Why didn’t you just clean it up or knock it down?”

“I saw the potential,” Lena said.

“How could you see the potential when you didn’t even see the building? You barely know where it is, even now,” Tom argued.

“I meant the potential in you, Tom,” she answered quietly. “I invested in you.”

He blushed at her compliment but replied stubbornly, “Then I need to pay back your investment.”

“You do. Every day, you do. I’m so proud of you, so pleased that I get to be a part of your family. My investment has already paid off tenfold as far as I’m concerned.”

Tom blushed again and shifted uncomfortably at her warm praise. “Humph,” he said. “I reckon I’ll go with Hal’s idea and run the hotel as well as I can. That’s something I can get my hands on.”

When the lesson was finished Alex turned on the television. She wanted to watch a documentary on the massive rebuilding effort that was taking place in areas Lena had devastated during her worldwide tantrum and the subsequent women’s revolution that she’d triggered.

The Safe Angel Initiative had sprung to life almost immediately following Lena’s rampage, and businesses and non-profit groups around the world jumped on board. New communities with clean housing, medical facilities, schools, shops, and industry were sprouting up everywhere, and not just in the cities that had been the focus of Lena’s attacks. The model, based on input from women and children in each community, was flourishing as a new way to respond positively to the problem of refugees in countries across the globe.

The Safe Angel Initiative set up temporary facilities first, then began the process of building permanent communities that suited the cultural needs and geographic nature of the location. When governments refused to allow the SAI access to a devastated area, the organization simply bought property from whomever it could and moved refugees who were willing to travel. Home-based businesses and small-scale agriculture quickly followed the first wave of temporary housing as women were given the training and opportunity to become self-sufficient.

Soon industry representatives were asking for a chance to build in SAI communities as the determined nature of the potential work force came to light. Governments that refused to talk with SAI representatives saw their finances suffer as SAI money poured into areas that welcomed the organization. As SAI community members became financially self-sufficient, SAI-sanctioned businesses reaped the benefits in commerce within the community. The power of a woman had never been as clearly imprinted on the world as it was in the SAI model.

SAI communities had their own laws and law enforcement, so crimes against women and children were not tolerated. Men who entered the communities did so with the understanding that there was true equality under the law, regardless of what may be acceptable in other areas. Religion was accepted, but any ritual that involved subjugation or mutilation was forbidden.

The SAI was well-thought-out and smoothly run. There hadn’t been a single scandal or suggestion of misappropriation of funds. It was a remarkable feat, made even more remarkable by the fact that its CEO was a woman with no prior executive experience. Leylak Tarih was the wife of an affluent businessman from Istanbul, an apolitical nonreligious college graduate, and a fair, level-headed, formidable woman.

 The news presenter who narrated the documentary said it may be the most impressive example of single-minded altruism in the history of humanity. The fact that it had appeared spontaneously, and somewhat mysteriously, as a finished construct without the typical growing pains that such a venture would usually experience, made it even more impressive.

Tom, Hal, and Lena had joined Alex to watch the documentary. As the closing credits rolled, Hal turned to Lena and murmured, “You’ll bankrupt yourself if you keep this up.”

“I doubt it. And if I do, what better cause could there be?” she replied softly.

“What’s that?” Tom’s hearing was sharper than usual, thanks to the impending full moon. “You’re part of the Safe Angel Initiative?”

“Who do you think started it?” Hal answered for her. “Half of the companies mentioned in that programme belong to her, at least until she bankrupts them and has to sell off the remnants to pay her bills.”

“I’m nowhere near that point,” Lena argued. “The SAI is another example of a short-term investment with a long-term payback. SAI communities will become self-sufficient and begin donating back to the SAI trust, which will help the program keep growing. And more people are joining all the time. The load is already shifting, Hal. Just be patient. You’ll see.”

Hal didn’t want to be patient. She’d consistently refused to listen to his concerns, but maybe with Tom and Alex in the conversation she would finally pay attention. “You’re pouring every bit of current revenue into the SAI and you’ve drained your savings. I’ve seen you close account after account, wealth you’ve had for centuries gone in a fortnight. If you’re not careful you’ll have nothing left but the Barry Grand.”

Lena shrugged and shook her head. “I’ve always cleaned up after myself. That’s what the savings are for. This is just the biggest cleanup, ever, that’s all.”

“It sounds like you’re doing more than just cleanup,” Alex said. “It sounds like you’re making a lot of lives better than they were. You’re changing the world, Lena. I think that’s a great way to spend your money.”

“That answers that,” Tom added. “I thought you’d be involved in the SAI. It’s like you.” He smiled at her as he spoke. Tom was relieved to learn that Lena was doing everything she could to improve the places she’d damaged.

“Can any of you see past the sentimental nobility to the cold reality of this situation? Lena is going broke.” Hal’s exasperation was clear. “Her carefully constructed business is falling apart. Soon she will be selling off assets that she’s owned, literally, since their inception.” He turned to her. “All the business acumen and strategic planning in the world can’t help you if you insist on supporting this SAI venture to the extent that you have done thus far. It will break you.”

She studied his face quietly for a moment. “You are genuinely concerned for me, aren’t you? You know wealth doesn’t matter to me beyond what I can use it for. This is what I want to use it for.”

“And what happens to your loyal employees when you sell off your assets piecemeal? Will the next employer be as willing to hire supernaturals? Will the next business owner extend the same generous benefits packages? Will they even be able to keep their jobs? There’s more at stake here than your own interests, my lady.”

“I know that, Hal. Do you honestly believe I have reached that point with my finances?”

“I think you are dangerously close, yes.”

“Then for the sake of your peace of mind, I will change tactics,” Lena said firmly. “Time to bring new money into the endeavor.”

“How’re you going to do that?” Tom asked. “That show made it sound like everyone in the world knows about the SAI. Seems to me that all the rich people who want to donate already are.”

“There are plenty of very wealthy people left in the world. It’s just a matter of removing their money from them and giving it to the SAI trust,” Lena said.

“We could rent-a-ghost into their vaults and take some,” Alex offered with more enthusiasm than she probably should have. “We can be like Robin Hood! Steal from the rich to help the poor.”

Hal snorted at the notion of Lena as bank robber. Didn’t Alex realize that such behaviour was beneath her?

“That won’t work, Alex, not in today’s world,” Lena said. “Wealth these days is seldom in easily-accessible piles, and when it is, it is also closely guarded and counted regularly. We can’t just pop in, grab a few bags of gold, and pop out again.”

“Too bad.” Alex was clearly disappointed.

“I know. I’d totally bring you with me on a heist if I thought we could clear out enough money to make it worth our while,” Lena said. “You know, some of those guys **do** still have storerooms with piles of wealth,” she continued. “I wonder…”

“You’re not seriously considering such an absurd course of action!” Hal interrupted.

Lena shrugged. “Why not? Why not go for the treasuries of the people who actively promoted and who profited from the enslavement of women and children? It seems fair to me, and lord knows I’ve done it plenty of times in the past. The financial world is much more complex now, so it’s hard to trace the money back to its rotten source. Otherwise I probably would have already made a few strategic withdrawals.” She grinned at the last few words. Strategic withdrawals had at one time been her specialty and her way of repaying the victims of evil deeds.

Tom was reminded of his own less than pure history of petty theft as a means of survival. McNair said it wasn’t stealing if it was from a big shop. Maybe Lena had the same kind of idea.

“You mean, it isn’t stealing if you take back the money from a thief? But they aren’t really thieves are they? They take money for doing bad things, but they don’t steal the money.”

“A pirate’s loot is never his own, it belongs to his victims. It may be from outright theft or from ransoming a prisoner, but either way it is ill-gotten gains,” Lena said. “Come on, Hal, you refused to claim your interests in the Intercontinental cruise line because you said your money was ill-gotten. Why are you opposed to this idea?”

“I’m opposed to you becoming a petty criminal, however you choose to justify your actions,” he snapped.

She gave him a predator’s narrow look and purred, “Oh honey, I’m never petty.”  Hal’s breath caught as he recognized the promise of danger in her tone.

“But you’re right,” she continued. “It’s a bad idea, mainly because the amount I’d need to steal would be quickly detected and somebody would be made to pay for the crime. No, we need another way. We need to make these guys desperate to give SAI their money.”

“How do you propose to do that?” Hal asked.

Lena smiled her signature lopsided smile that meant she was about to surprise them. “You all know _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ , right?”

“Oh my god!” Alex squealed. “You know where the Ark of the Covenant is!”

“You can’t sell the Ark of the Covenant,” Hal said at the same time.

“I’m not going to sell the Ark of the Covenant,” Lena said.

“Wait—you know where the Ark of the Covenant is?” Tom asked.

“Yes, but that’s not the point. I just mean that there are hidden treasures in the world that people will pay a lot of money for. All we need to do is retrieve one, donate it anonymously to the SAI trust, and watch the bidding begin.” Lena smiled at her simple plan.

“We?” Hal got to the point.

“Yes, ‘we’. You’re coming along on this expedition,” Lena said.

He arched his eyebrows briefly as a smile crossed his face. “At present I have neither a whip nor a Fedora, although I’ve been told I look good in both.”

“Mmm, that sounds like a whole different kind of adventure,” Lena said. “You won’t need a whip for this gig.”

“How about the Fedora? And a sturdy leather jacket, of course.” Hal was joking now. He wasn’t sure what kind of adventure Lena had planned, but he liked the idea of doing something new with her.

“You’ll want boots as well,” Lena said. “We’re going to mine a diamond.”

“Just one?”

“For now. We’ll start in the morning.” She got to her feet, stretched, and turned to Tom and Alex. “Goodnight, youngsters.”

“Goodnight, oldsters,” Alex retorted with a smile. The good-natured taunts had become routine.

Hal rose from the sectional as well. “South Africa?”

“Brazil.”

_Brazil!_ The word flared through his imagination. _Could she know the location of a red diamond?_ Red, the rarest diamond on earth. Hal had only seen pictures, but they were enough to ignite his desire to own one of the blood-colored stones. The largest known red diamonds had come from Brazil.

Lena saw the glint in his eyes and smiled. Trust Hal to know about valuable gemstones. They might have to bring back two diamonds, one for the SAI and one for him.

Hal considered his geography as the idea of a trip to South America became more real in his mind. With Lena it would just be a matter of a few seconds to travel halfway around the world and to the Southern Hemisphere.

“Bolivia is just next door to Brazil,” he observed as they went upstairs to begin their nighttime routine, “especially if we are going to the Alto Paranaiba region of Brazil.”

“We may be,” Lena said. “Are you considering a detour?”

“It’s worth considering, don’t you think?”

“Possibly. Have you been to Snow’s stronghold?”

“Just once. He required every Old One to make the pilgrimage. I didn’t care for it—very uncomfortable climate, and everyone tasted of yerba mate.”

“Do you think you could find it again?”

“I’d like to try,” he said. His tone grew grim as he continued. “That’s Hetty’s home now. I’d like to pay her a visit, uninvited, as she chose to do to our home.”

“Turnabout is fair play.” Lena’s tone was grim as well.

“Precisely.”

The conversation continued as they went through their nighttime routine and settled into bed.  Lena was determined to focus on retrieval of a red diamond large enough to create an international stir, once it was donated to the SAI. She wanted a bidding war of epic proportion, so she needed a rough stone large enough to have an incalculable value.

Hal wanted to learn the secret behind the red diamond—its location and the story he knew came with it. He also wanted one last visit to the vampire stronghold in Bolivia. He insisted that he could find Mr. Snow’s fortress even though he’d only been there once, over a century ago. Lena reminded him that the area may have changed and that they didn’t have time to go on a search for the place. Not only that, but she doubted his ability to lead them to it from an aerial perspective.

Hal realized that she may have a point, but he wasn’t ready to concede the argument and chose to change the subject instead.

“You do realize that our conversation is distracting us from more interesting activities,” he pointed out as he put a hand on her waist and pulled her against him. He stopped her reply with a kiss.

It was only a temporary distraction.

“Are you trying to shut me up?” Lena asked good-naturedly as she pushed them apart. It was hardly the first time he’d employed that tactic.

“I’m saying that there are better uses for your mouth,” Hal replied with a quick, lopsided smile. Her heart skipped, as he knew it would. Vampire senses are a handy tool with which to learn a woman’s weaknesses, and Hal had memorized hers. That particular smile, endearing with a hint of wicked, was one of them.

His next kiss was lingering, invasive, and accompanied by the brush of his erection against her body. _That should do_ , he thought.

But when his mouth moved from her lips to the delicate skin behind her ear, she continued speaking.

“I just think you need to consider the logistics of the thing.” Lena’s mind was still on their South American expedition.

Hal pressed his erection more firmly against her. “Clearly you need something beside my lips with which to occupy your mouth,” he murmured into her ear.

“That’s a bit of a one-sided offer, isn’t it?”

“Are you suggesting…”

“69?”

He winced. “What a brutish term. Modern parlance is inelegant at best.”

When she didn’t reply he reluctantly turned his attention away from what he’d assumed would be successful foreplay. Something was making her thoughtful.

“You haven’t suggested that course of activity since we’ve become intimate,” he said quietly. “I thought perhaps you were no longer interested…” He trailed off, giving her an opening in which to respond.

“You mean, since we’ve become intimate with me as a woman,” she said.

There was a quiet moment as she gathered her thoughts. She could spend forever right here, with his hand idly caressing her breast, his leg draped over hers, his eyes watching her, warm with desire. Five centuries without the touch of skin against hers, without the scent of a lover mingling with her own. Five centuries of lonely beds and an ache in her belly that nothing could ever quite erase. Until they’d worked their way back to each other, and now she had a lover unlike any she’d ever known. She was grateful.

She was also determined to be honest with him this time. No secrets in their bed. No secrets beyond those she **had** to keep, from him and the rest of the world.

“There are moments when I miss being Pet.” She saw his surprise at her reference to the male form she’d assumed temporarily early on in their intimate times. Pet had allowed them to avoid Hal’s unique weakness for women and had kept the vampire out of their bed until they’d found a way to permanently disable it.

She continued. “I love what you do to me in this form, and nothing is better. But no matter how amazing you are with these—“ she kissed him to signify his lips “—I feel unfinished without this—“ she stroked his erection “—buried in me.”

“Which won’t happen if we satisfy each other orally.” Hal finished her thought to show his understanding. “Not for a few minutes, at least,” he added with another wicked grin.

She returned his grin with her own seductive smile. “Especially if I do my part well.”

“And you do, my lady, you most certainly do.”

“Pet doesn’t have that sense of emptiness. It must be a female thing, at least for me. My first transformation was because I needed you in me and that was the only safe way. But Pet can be satisfied without it as well.” Lena sighed. “Men are weird,” she summarized.

“Women are an enigma,” Hal replied. She’d once again proven how little he understood her.

Hal moved away from her and settled onto his back. He frowned at the ceiling thoughtfully. He could stay here forever, in the safety of their private space. Hal knew himself to be a coward—how else could he explain his continued existence—but he was determined not to be cowardly with Lena. Not any longer. Finally he spoke.

“Tom and Alex are still downstairs.”

It was more statement than question, but Lena replied anyway.

“Yes.”

“Would Pet care to join me for a cup of tea? I think it’s time I introduce him formally to our housemates.”

“You don’t need to do that, Hal. There are plenty of other ways for us to occupy ourselves. Or Pet can stay here in the bedroom, if you like.”

“No. I told you I wouldn’t do that to you again. Pet won’t be my dirty little secret.” Hal sat up and turned to her. “I’m—bisexual,” he said with forced nonchalance. “My housemates won’t have a problem accepting that, I’ve just had a problem admitting it to them. Historically I’ve only chosen to act on those interests while on the blood, but that doesn’t make it any less true.”

“You prefer women.”

“And you prefer men. Fortunately for me, as I can’t be anything else. Man or monster are your only options with me as a lover,” he admitted. “But if there are things you want to do as Pet, I’m happy to oblige. Pet has a special place in my heart,” he concluded with a smile.

“In that case, yes, Pet would like to join you for tea and introductions.”

Lena smiled as she got out of bed. Hal was trying very hard to be honest about himself. It was a challenge for him, especially when it came to behaviors that he linked closely to the vampire. He still struggled to find the man who’d been buried under the curse all those centuries, and sometimes the man he found made him uncomfortable.

He’d been badly abused as a child growing up in a brothel. She knew that he wondered, sometimes, whether he’d brought it on himself. Perhaps something in him had told the brothel’s owner that he could accept being used by men. Perhaps he’d shown a hint of curiosity or interest. Hal had become popular with a particular clientele, and when he grew old and strong enough to become dominant he’d become even more popular. She knew him well enough to know that he blamed himself for his popularity.

The victim turned survivor often blames himself; it is a heartbreaking element of human nature.

She was painfully familiar with it herself.

 


	2. Honesty

Tom McNair was a hunter. He wasn’t a young man who knew how to hunt, nor was he a sportsman. Tom McNair was a hunter in the same way that he was a man—intuitively, with a lifetime of practice and observation that soaked through the skin and became part of his being. A hunter has a deeper recognition of the physical world than most people. Even when he isn’t hunting, the true hunter is always aware.

The pull of the wolf heightened his abilities, but Tom read the world around him with a hunter’s sharpened perception at all times. He judged Alex’s tangibility by the weight of her footsteps and the sharp creak of her leather jacket. He judged Hal’s moods by the stiffness of his spine and the flare of his nostrils. As for Lena, every movement told a story. She danced her way through the world and Tom learned to let the dance speak to him.

Tom knew far more than he let on. His senses fed him information beyond what his housemates realized, and at times beyond his ability to interpret. He was an animal hunter, not a hunter of humans.

Animals are honest. They leave tracks, they mark territory, they run, hide, or fight based on their nature. Tom grew up hunting animals and the smallest traces of their passing were evident to him. Even their sounds, or the lack of sound in a space, helped him track them down. Vampires were little more than high-functioning animals in Tom’s mind. The blood turned them into predators, but Tom and his dad were the top predators in their world.

Then vampires killed McNair, and his legacy to Tom was the request that he make more of himself than McNair had taught him to be. What’s a hunter to do, when the hunt is no longer the goal? He moves, sometimes reluctantly, into the world of people.

People aren’t honest. They lie to each other and to themselves. As a hunter, Tom tracked the people around him. It was as natural as breathing and sometimes part of it. A breath, and he tracked the cologne of the lady from table 6 to her room in the east wing. He observed that she’d left over half of her breakfast. He didn’t know why. The ‘why’ bothered him and pushed him to learn more about people, to become more thoughtful of the humans around him. He needed to read their tracks, to understand them, if he was going to become comfortable in their world.

The ‘why’ behind animal behavior was easy for Tom to discover: food, shelter, a threat, or a mate. Tom learned that people have too many ‘whys’ for a hunter to follow.

Tom knew more about Hal Yorke than he let on. He’d studied Hal from day one. He’d watched and listened and thought about the tracks Hal made in his world. He’d watched Hal in the chair, and he’d listened to his threats, to the babbling, and to the terrified rages of his nightmares. Tom didn’t know what it all meant, but he thought that if he could learn to understand Hal he could probably understand anybody.

Hal had both threatened and propositioned Tom during the cruel swings of his withdrawal. He growled and muttered, and spat out vile details of what he’d do to Tom once he’d freed himself from the chair. Things he’d done to other men who’d challenged him or who’d drawn his interest. Hal was brutally specific in his description, and Tom’s stomach turned. He wanted to hide in the bathroom and puke, but he didn’t let Hal see it. No weakness. Never show weakness to your enemy. McNair said.

Hal also whispered lewd promises of secret delights that he’d give to Tom, if only he were allowed. Tom politely declined. Hal was a good-lookin’ bloke when he was cleaned up and not filthy and stinkin’. Tom just wasn’t interested in what Hal had to offer. In fact, he didn’t understand most of it and didn’t realize how great those activities could be until Alex became his girlfriend. Tom decided that he liked girls for that kind of thing, and by girls he meant Alex. No amount of big eyes and sweet cologne could lure him away from her.

Hal never mentioned those times in the chair. He refrained from discussing the details of his withdrawal and had simply issued generalized apologies for the ‘unpleasantness’ he’d put his housemates through. Sometimes he obliquely referred to ‘hallucinations’ and led Tom and Alex to believe that he wasn’t sure how much had happened and how much he’d dreamed. Tom figured Hal was lying about that, but he let it go. If he had as much to apologize for as Hal, he’d probably try the same trick. A bloke could get tired of apologizing after a few centuries.

Tom knew when Hal and Lena became intimate. He’d seen enough mating seasons to pick up the signs, and to be honest they weren’t trying to hide it. Tom knew more than he let on. He knew from subtle changes in scent, the weight of footsteps, the tone and timbre of whispered voices, that sometimes there were two men in Lena’s bed. Two men and no women.

Hal and Lena didn’t say anything and neither did Tom. He remembered the shock of seeing the red-haired man sleeping with Hal early that morning when he’d burst in on them. He remembered Hal’s embarrassment at being caught. Tom was surprised that Lena put up with Hal’s attitude about having a male partner, surprised that she would change into something she wasn’t and hide herself away to please Hal. When Tom stopped noticing the red-haired man he figured Lena had put her foot down about it.

So when Tom heard them coming back downstairs just a short time after saying goodnight, he knew something had changed. He knew from the sound of their movement that Hal and somebody not Lena was heading their way. He caught the scent before they came into view. It was the red-haired fellow. Tom didn’t look toward the stairs; he watched Alex for her reaction.

Alex turned to question Hal and Lena as to why they were back so soon, but her eyes got big and her mouth hung open for a moment, until she remembered to snap it shut. Why was Lena being a man? And why was Hal holding her/his hand like that? Alex turned to Tom with the question on her face.

Tom shrugged. “They like variety,” he said.

“Did you know about this?” Alex whispered fiercely.

“Naw, not really. Not my business, is it?”

The red-haired man called through the pass-through window, “Want some tea, Tom?”

“No thanks, I have some,” Tom answered casually, holding his mug aloft as evidence.

“Drink fast,” Alex whispered, “so we can take the empty mug back to the kitchen.”

Tom chuckled, “Come on, then,” he said as he got to his feet. “Let’s get on with it.”

Hal wore pyjamas, slippers, and a tasteful dressing gown. The dressing gown was an extra shield against prying eyes—he hoped it would disguise his alarmingly urgent response to Pet’s presence. He hadn’t watched Lena transform into Pet, but had instead focused on getting dressed before turning to see his Pet pull on a pair of Lena’s sweatpants. Hal should have waited a minute longer; Pet’s nearly-naked form was so enticing that they almost didn’t make it out of the room. Hal reached for his dressing gown instead of his Pet, and Pet put on a t-shirt with the symbols for barium, cobalt, and nitrogen. Ba-Co-N. Lena’s taste in clothes hadn’t improved, in spite of Hal’s efforts.

Hal took Pet’s hand and led him down the stairs and into the kitchen. They got their tea things as always and waited quietly for the tea to brew and for their housemates join them. When Tom and Alex entered the kitchen Hal stiffened for a moment, then took a breath and smiled at them. He’d locked his body down, for the most part, and was certain that his inner turmoil wouldn’t register on the surface. Once again, centuries of dealing with beings who could detect minute changes in their adversaries would serve him well.

He pushed away from the counter where he’d been leaning next to Pet. “Come to meet my boyfriend?” he asked casually.

“We’ve already met,” Tom reminded him. “We came for the formal introductions.”

Hal had already planned for discretion while making those introductions. He would use the name ‘Len’ with his housemates, rather than ‘Pet’. He didn’t get the chance.

“He calls me Pet,” his boyfriend said with a smirk. “It was his turn to use it.”

Hal’s easy smile twitched momentarily before resettling. So much for discretion.

Tom’s eyebrows shot up at the name, but after a moment he nodded. Of course, Hal would want to turn things around on Lena when he had the chance. She’d called him Pet and even kept him on a leash when she first came to Honolulu Heights.

Alex, as always, went for the meaning behind the words. “Pet? So does that mean you’re…No way. You’re bottom?”

Pet nodded. “I’m the submissive, of course. That’s not Hal’s thing.”

Alex shook her head, refusing to believe that her friend could let anyone dominate her no matter what form she took.

Pet continued. “It was my idea. I offered this form to Hal with exactly that in mind. It threw him for a loop at first, but he agreed to try it and I’m glad he did.”

“You chose the role, but we are partners,” Hal said with a warm look at Pet. “I simply have more experience with this type of activity.”

He turned back to Tom and Alex. “I’m bisexual,” he said calmly.

They had no idea how much effort it took him to say it. For a moment he wished he could drink blood again, so he could revel in his debauchery and feel no shame. Hal mentally checked himself. His love for Lena, and through her for Pet, was neither debauched nor shameful. His own prejudices caused his struggle.

“You’ve done a good job of hiding it,” Alex observed. “Why didn’t you just say so before?  Why’d you decide to say something now?”

“Because of a remnant from my human years that I’ve never been comfortable with,” Hal said. “Until recently I’ve only acted on those interests when on the blood, because of some—unfortunate—memories that are attached.” He frowned at the floor between them for a moment.

“I believe I should tell you,” he said. “Lena knows of my cruelty and of its origin. She gave me Pet in spite of what she knows. If she can trust **me,** perhaps I should trust you.”

“You, telling a secret before it’s forced out of you? That would be something,” Alex said. She used sarcasm to hide the fact that she was moved, and a little scared of what Hal might confess.

They sat at the kitchen table. Pet quietly rested a hand on Hal’s forearm as he began.

“I was born in a brothel, very likely in 1490. I don’t know the date, just as I don’t know the identity of my father or, for that matter, my mother. There were six women, all of whom cared for me as their—schedules—allowed. None claimed me. I belonged to the place and by default to its owner, a man named Yorke. I don’t believe he was my father. I hope he was not.”

“In those days children born to whores had no value. I’m surprised I wasn’t killed while still an infant, but for some reason the women, my ‘mothers’, kept me alive. They were illiterate and superstitious, and it’s possible that I was the son of a priest who visited on occasion. The priest spent time with each of them, offering private confession of their sins and giving them extra coin for their services. Apparently he’d been given special dispensation to attend to the needs of a certain population. As I said, the women were illiterate and superstitious.”

“Perhaps they kept me alive as a bargaining chip with the priest, as a defense against damnation. If one had acknowledged me, the others would no longer have received his ‘divine protection.’” Hal spat out the words; his disgust at the man and his perversion of faith was apparent.

“I was put to work while very young, and by the time the priest stopped visiting I’d begun to earn my keep by cleaning the premises and running errands. Then Yorke found another use for me.”

Hal’s self-control was wearing thin. He was about to become emotional and that wouldn’t do. Emotions could be a weakness, and even with his housemates Hal hated to admit to weakness. His tension was clear in his grip, which threatened to break his teacup. He unwrapped his hands from around it and set a hand on each thigh instead. Better to bruise himself than to damage the crockery. Hal felt a warm hand cover his own. Pet was leaning toward him, giving him the touch and stability that he needed.

“Lima beans,” Pet murmured.

It was their code for “I love you.” Those words couldn’t be spoken. They drew attention from immortal elements that would rejoice in Lena’s destruction and use him, Tom, and Alex to secure it. Love was a weapon that Lena’s nemesis, Lucifer, could use against her, so she hid her truth in the ordinary chatter of the dinner table. She was careful to protect her family.

Lena shone through Pet’s brown eyes and gave Hal the courage to continue. She knew his nightmares and his history, but he’d never spoken of these things directly to anyone except her. He turned his gaze to the table so as not to see the pain he knew would soon be apparent in those warm brown eyes.

“Paedophilia,” he said softly. “It means child-love, _love_ for a child. At one time philia meant friendship. The more recent use of the term is another thing entirely. In my case, there was no love attached to the acts that were perpetrated against my young body.”

In the stunned silence that followed, Hal heard three sets of heartbeats besides his own. He looked across the table at Alex, tangible, clinging to Tom’s hand with tears beginning to roll down her face.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

It took Hal a moment to realize what it meant. Alex was so strongly connected to them that she no longer had to work to be tangible with her family. She’d reached a point where she could just ‘be’ without thought. Her emotional stress would have unmoored her and she would have lost her solidity if it weren’t so.

Another thing to be thankful for. Family. Love. He felt it settle on him like a warm blanket. Finally, after five centuries, he was safe.

“I was used to the random slap or kick,” Hal said. “Pain was a normal part of my world. But it was honest pain, not disguised by false affection. The first time, Yorke took my hand and led me into a room. He said a man was there who wanted to be my friend. He said the man had treats. Yorke had never bothered to lie to me, so I didn’t think to question him. I was eight years old.”

“My new friend wanted me to play a game. I didn’t like the game, but I knew better than to argue. I found out later that he’d approached Yorke about me. He wanted me; he wanted to be the first. He knew that my body wouldn’t accommodate some activities so he taught me to pleasure him in ways I could. It was unpleasant and sometimes uncomfortable, but certainly not unbearable.”

“There were other men. My friend brought them to the brothel and Yorke happily took their money. The women, my mothers, told me I was lucky. The men sometimes brought food, and there were drinks that made me forget. Then one day, my friend changed. He always looked—hungry—when I came to the room, but this time he looked different. Not just hungry, but sharp. Cold. Not friendly. I thought I’d done something to anger him, but he wasn’t angry. He was just tired of waiting.”

Hal paused to let the memory sink into him. He hadn’t looked at it for a very long time. It was ugly, heavy, coated in blood and fear. His helplessness. His tears. His incoherent pleas for it to stop. Hal had tried to put the memory down and walk away. He’d tried to drown it in the torment of victims even younger than he had been. Nothing worked. It was his to keep and carry. It was his to share with the family who loved him. He continued quickly, before he lost his nerve.

“I learned a new pain that day. My body was torn. My trust was broken. After that day, I fought the trip to the room. I was too small to put up much of a fight at first, so I learned to run. I learned to hide. Eventually I became strong enough to fight off the men who wanted to use me, and I learned to use them instead. I began to earn my own living in the brothel. When the last of my mothers died I took my pitiful savings and left.”

Hal took a steadying breath and waited. He needed a moment before moving to the next part of his story, and he believed his family needed time to absorb this part of it.

“Mate, I’m sorry you had to live like that,” Tom said quietly.

Hal felt a twinge of shame at the times he’d ridiculed Tom’s campervan and backwards upbringing. His snobbery had hidden his own ghastly childhood.

“Thank you, Tom. That is kind of you to say,” Hal said with a quick smile to his friend. He turned to Pet sitting quietly next to him. Hal saw something new in Pet’s eyes. Pride. Lena was proud of him for telling a painful truth. Hal feared that pride would be gone by the time he was finished with his story. He returned his focus to the table.

“As a human I refused to admit that I might be what we now call bisexual. Once I’d left the brothel I never looked at another man. If I felt a stirring of interest, I told myself it was reflex born from years of habit. It wasn’t me. There was too much pain attached, too much shame. It couldn’t be me.”

“I learned some things about myself in the brothel,” Hal continued. “I learned to be cruel and I learned that I liked it. I enjoy dominance and inflicting pain on others. As a human I convinced myself that the men who came to me wanted to be hurt. They paid for the privilege. As a vampire it didn’t matter. Torture was part of the thrill, and the moment of betrayal, the moment when my victims realized that I wasn’t their friend—well, it made their deaths all the sweeter. I did to others what had been done to me, and more. Men and boys. I tore their bodies and I drained them dry. I reveled in my depravity.”

Hal felt the mood shift from sympathetic to somber as he spoke. He’d expected as much. Tom and Alex were too decent to be comfortable with the details of his murderous acts, and he didn’t want their sympathy to last. He didn’t deserve it. He wouldn’t use his childhood to justify himself any longer.

“I took lovers, male and female, from among the vampires I met. I prefer women, but men have their merits as well. As I moved up in the hierarchy, I learned that I could have whomever I chose. They didn’t dare object.”

“Vampires heal quickly. Sometimes I envied my lovers their ability to recuperate so swiftly from my...attentions. I could have used that ability when I was a child. But I shouldn’t have envied them. They needed vampire regeneration by the time I’d made full use of them.”

Hal had kept his eyes fixed on the table and his cup of cold tea as he spoke. He paused, unable to continue. He’d never spoken so long about himself, or so openly, to anyone but Lena. He felt naked and exposed under Tom and Alex’s condemnation. He’d trusted them with too much—nobody should be asked to accept the things he’d done.

Pet was getting out of his chair. Hal’s heart stopped—Pet was leaving the table, leaving him to face Tom and Alex alone. But Pet didn’t leave, he knelt next to Hal and wrapped him in a hug, chair and all. He squeezed his torso between Hal and the table as best he could, pinned Hal’s rigid arms alongside his body, and held him tight, giving Hal the security he needed. Hal hid his face in Pet’s curls and breathed in his scent as his hands unconsciously clutched at his Pet to hold him close.

“Thank you,” he whispered to Pet.

“Welcome,” Pet whispered back.

Pet released Hal from the hug but caught his hand and kept it as he returned to his chair. Their clasped hands rested on the table as Hal continued.

“Then, Pet appeared,” he said with a smile at his lover. “Knowing my history as a vampire, knowing that I was in the habit of brutally using my male lovers, Pet appeared. Pet trusted me and put himself in my hands. He was virginal in his male experience and he asked me to be his guide. His teacher. I was happy to oblige, but I was unwilling to allow Pet beyond the bedroom. He was held prisoner by my reluctance to admit the truth about myself.”

“That wasn’t right, Hal,” Tom said. “That wasn’t fair to Lena.”

“What part of this story **is** right or fair, Tom? For centuries I’ve blamed the blood for my behaviour, but the truth is that I was cruel as a human. My maker chose to recruit me for a reason. He saw what I was.”

“So why are you here now?” Alex addressed her question to Pet, not to Hal. She didn’t want to look at Hal, let alone talk to him.

“Hal sent me away several months ago,” Pet explained. “He didn’t want to be unfair to me any longer, so he said that until he could introduce me to you and Tom, this form of me would have to stay away.”

“And what? He wants you badly enough now? He’ll go through all this to have you now?” Alex asked.

“No, I want him,” Pet said. “I told him that I wanted to be with him in this form. He’s doing this for me, Alex, not for himself.”

“Although I do intend to enjoy myself, Pet. It isn’t just for you,” Hal interrupted with a gentle smile.

“I don’t get it,” Tom said. “What’s it like? Being bisexual. I know what happens, you talked about it in the chair, but—“ At Hal’s pained look, Tom shut his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say anything about that.

“I’d hoped those were hallucinations or nightmares,” Hal said after an awkward silence. He swallowed. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

Alex looked from Tom to Hal and back again as they both stared intently at the salt and pepper sitting in the center of the table.

“Did Mr. Creepy proposition you too? Tom? Did he?” Tom nodded his head as Hal blushed. “Shite! I thought it was just me,” Alex said. “At least he didn’t offer us a three-way, eh?”

“Alex!” Tom frowned as he chastised her.

“Sorry!” She’d misjudged the mood again.

“Hallucination, then,” Hal muttered to himself. His friends stared at him as he shrugged. “Vampires aren’t particular about numbers,” he said. “Just to be clear, that would have been the blood talking, not the man.”

Alex gave him a look. “If you say so.”

Tom returned to his original question. “What’s it like? You like women better, but you like men too? How does that work?”

“I don’t know how it works, I just know that’s how I am,” Hal answered evenly.

“What about you?” Tom asked Pet. “Are you bisexual too?”

“In my female form I prefer men, although I’ve been with women. In this form I only want him.” Pet nodded toward Hal. “I told him I’m Hal-sexual.”

“You’re lucky he doesn’t like animals,” Alex said to Pet. “You don’t, do you?” she asked as she turned her attention to Hal.

“No.”

Alex persisted. “Are you pansexual?”

“I don’t know what that means, Alex,” was his curt reply.

“It means you’ll shag anyone, regardless of gender identity. I’ll bet most vampires are pansexual,” she said.

“Yes, when they are blood-drunk most vampires would be considered pansexual,” Hal said. “In fact, with the blending of wardrobes and lack of gender-specific societal roles, I’d wager that most modern vampires don’t know what kind of victim they’ve got until they taste it.”

“I’d probably consider myself pansexual,” Pet said. “Or I was, until Hal. Now he’s all I want.”

“I think I get it,” Tom said. “Let’s say you’re hunting for pheasant because you really want roast pheasant for supper. You go out looking for signs of pheasant, but you see signs of grouse instead. Grouse is just about as good, so you bring home grouse for supper. It isn’t your favourite, but you like it well enough when it’s done up right.”

“An apt description, Tom.” Hal nodded his approval. “Pheasant is my favourite, but grouse can be a very good meal as well.”

“If you like pheasant better, why’d you want Lena to be a grouse?” Tom asked.

“It wasn’t Hal’s idea, Tom, it was mine,” Pet reminded him. “Hal told you that it’s harder for him to control the vampire with women, right? Well, I wanted to have sex and he didn’t think he could keep the vampire out of it. So I did this, and it worked.”

“You sure you’ve never done it with an animal?” Alex asked.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Hal snapped. “Look Alex, even I have standards, okay? I don’t like animal blood and I’m not attracted to animals. I’m not attracted to animals, plants, furniture, or housewares. Anything else you want to ask?”

Pet grinned. “What about mythical creatures?” he asked.

Three heads whipped around in unison as the housemates stared at him. Pet shrugged.

“Just asking. I do a lovely centaur. Female, of course.”

Hal pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off the headache this conversation was causing.

“No. Thank you. Really, it’s kind of you to offer, but no.” He sighed. “I think we’ve had enough talk about my private life for one night. In fact, I may have lost interest in this entire endeavor.”

In response, Pet grabbed him by the lapels and pulled him into a nice, juicy kiss. Hal immediately found his interest in their endeavor.

“Did that re-light your candle?” Pet smirked when he released Hal.

He pretended to think about Pet’s question for a moment before answering with his own question.

“Et si…une petite gâterie? Un soixante-neuf, ca te dit?” He got to his feet as he finished the question.

“Bien sûr que oui!” Pet said as Hal pulled him out of his chair.

The two embraced and began an ardent kiss that vanished when they did, leaving Tom and Alex alone in the kitchen.

“I don’t know what they’re talking about, but it must have been pretty important,” Tom said. “Hal left their dirty cups on the table.”

“I say we do the same,” Alex said. “Come on, Tom, let’s go make out on the sofa. We can find a horror movie and I’ll pretend to be scared.”

Tom chuckled good-naturedly as he let Alex lead him back to the living room. They knew too much about real horror to ever take a movie seriously, but making out on the sofa sounded like fun. Considering Alex’s reaction to Hal speaking what sounded like French, maybe they should skip the horror and find a foreign language film tonight.

= = =

It had turned into the kind of night that travelers regret the next day, when they’re tired and don’t have a place to rest or time in the schedule for it.

Hal and Pet were stretched out on the bed, head-to-foot. Pet lifted a lazy arm.

“Hey,” he said.

Hal tossed him a pillow. Pet tucked it under his head and pulled the jumbled covers over some parts of them both.

“Why does French always sound sexy?” Pet wondered idly.

“To be fair, that was supposed to be sexy,” Hal replied. “And discreet. Neither Tom nor Alex speak French.”

“I doubt they speak any of the other half-dozen languages you could have used,” Pet pointed out. “But a proposition of that nature sounds best in French. Elegant. Not at all brutish.” Pet chuckled as he recalled Hal’s earlier complaints.

Hal leisurely ran a hand over Pet’s leg. Now that the excitement was over, his thoughts began to drift toward their South American expedition.

“I suppose we should get a few hours of sleep,” he said. “Big day tomorrow?”

“Possibly. I think we should drive to London, get our outfit together, and stay the night. Fly to Brazil the next day. You don’t mind, do you?”

“A chance to spend another evening in London with you? I don’t mind at all,” Hal said. “I’m curious as to what ‘outfit’ you think we need.”

“Sturdy clothes, small-scale survival kit, a few tools to retrieve the diamond. We aren’t going to just pop in and pop out. I need to meet with the locals and let them know we’re in the area.”

“Why bother?”

“A courtesy. They watch for outsiders, and I don’t want them to think that we’re trespassing.”

“Aren’t we? I thought we were going to sneak in and steal a diamond. Isn’t that the reason for your Indiana Jones reference earlier?”

Pet didn’t answer his question directly, but countered with what sounded like a change of subject. “When you review reports on my holdings, what’s the one thing you always shake your head about? Come on, ‘fess up. I know you do it.”

Hal sighed. He’d been too obvious in his disdain for Lena’s eco-generosity.

“This Precious Earth,” he replied. “The not-for-profit you own. Vast tracts of undeveloped land, locked away for the sake of preservation. Guarded, even. Money spent with no thought of remuneration.”

Pet’s voice was rich with humor as he said, “There’s a reason I put ‘precious’ in the name, Hal.”

Hal sat bolt upright, eyes wide; his heart suddenly hammered at his throat. _Treasure, stored away and waiting, in remote, protected spots around the world!_ No wonder Lena wasn’t worried about going bankrupt!

“You’re a fucking genius,” Hal declared.

“And you’re a genius at fucking,” Pet said with a grin. “Are you sure you need sleep? Because I can think of a much more interesting way to spend our time.”

“Who’s offering? You or Lena?”

“You tell me. It’s your turn to choose.”

Hal checked the clock. They had a few hours until sunrise. He threw the covers aside and lay alongside and partially on top of Pet as he replied.

“Both,” he said. “I’ll have both.”

“I love the way you think,” Pet said as he pulled Hal down for a kiss.

 


	3. The Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being Human doesn't belong to me, I'm just borrowing it.   
> More home life for the Honolulu Heights gang. Hal finally makes it to London and hopes to make an impression.

Tom awoke to the smell of breakfast and the sound of instrumental music wafting through the house. He glanced at Alex next to him, propped up on a pillow and reading, then at the clock, then back at Alex. His question was apparent.

“Yeah, they’ve been up for a while,” she said. “I’m not sure they slept at all.”

“Dunno about the music, but the food smells alright,” Tom said as he sat up and stretched. “We should just get on with it then.”

He got reluctantly out of bed and pulled on a pair of shorts before going to the bathroom to clean up for the day. This would be a long one—full day at work followed by full moon tonight—but at least he could meet it on a full stomach.

Alex gave him a few minutes to start his shower before joining him. She thought Tom might like to begin his day with a back wash and sex.  One of the best parts of becoming tangible, besides her ability to enjoy the full extent of Tom’s love for her, was the sensation of water on her skin. Alex found reasons to indulge in it, and steamy wet sex with Tom was her favorite reason. Full moon days were the best for sex because the wolf paced just beneath his skin; he was more powerful, a little dangerous, and eager.    

Breakfast was being set on the table by the time Tom and Alex came downstairs. Hal and Lena’s picture-perfect teamwork was almost wordless as they laid out an impressive meal for themselves and their werewolf friend. Their movements around the kitchen were a private dance that held them perfectly in sync with hands full and thoughts elsewhere. The Latin rhythm suited their buoyant mood.

“What’re we listening to?” Alex asked as she joined Tom at the table.

“Joaqin Rodrigo Vidre’s _Concerto de Aranjuez,_ ” Lena answered as she stepped lightly away from the table in time to the intricate guitar and accompanying flute.

“Nice to wake up to,” Alex said approvingly.

“We’re setting the mood for our trip,” Hal said with a warm smile aimed at Lena, “although Brazil is Portuguese rather than Spanish in its European heritage.”

Tom’s appetite was almost as impressive as the quantities of food laid out for him, and he tucked into the sausage-and-cheese casserole right away.  Lena’s signature cinnamon rolls, light, sweet, and still warm, were his next point of attack. Appetite notwithstanding, Tom still managed to notice Hal’s calm satisfaction and quiet confidence as he moved through the kitchen. His best mate looked a bit tired but carried himself well. Less swagger than he had at times, as if he no longer needed to take up extra space in the world. More relaxed than at other times, as if he no longer needed to guard himself. Last night had been good for Hal. Tom figured that Lena would make sure Hal was okay after his difficult confession, but by the looks of things Hal was much more than just ‘okay.’

Lena was much more than just ‘okay’ too, from what Tom could tell. Her light steps, swaying hips, and unconscious smiles told Tom that his mate had taken good care of Lena, or Pet, or whoever Hal had ended up in bed with. Tom shook his head as he ate. Trust Hal to be the kind of bloke who could satisfy a shape-changer with nearly unlimited stamina. There probably wasn’t another man on earth who could. It was good that Hal had finally met his match; good for Hal, for them, and for the world as a whole.

Alex looked Hal up and down as he joined them at the table.

“What’s with the tie?” she asked. “I thought you were going treasure hunting today.”

Hal was dressed in smartly-tailored suit trousers, slim-fitting dress shirt, and conservative tie. He protected them with a white chef’s apron, which he kept on while eating. Lena wore khaki trousers and a loose-fit button-front blouse over a lace camisole. She also protected her clothes with a chef’s apron.  They had dressed for the day while breakfast was in the oven.

“We are leaving for London immediately after breakfast,” Hal said. “As Lena intends to spend the afternoon in her corporate office, I dressed appropriately.”

He cast a dubious look at his girlfriend as he spoke. Clearly he believed he was the only one of the two who actually understood office-appropriate wardrobe choices.

“Hey, I’m not wearing a t-shirt at least,” Lena said defensively. “This is as close to work wear as I care to get.”

“I know you well enough to know that,” Hal said, “and I **am** thankful my eyes aren’t to be assailed by some tactless slogan or tasteless graphic today.” He gauged her expression as he continued. “You look fine, all things considered. I doubt you have anything more suitable in your wardrobe.”

The flash of her eyes told Hal that he’d hit his mark, and he hid his smug smile with a sip of coffee as she proved just how easily he could motivate her to do what he wanted.

“Oh, really? Well, Mr. Executive Vampire Fashion Snob, how about you do the dishes all by your lonesome and I’ll rummage through my meager closet for something you might actually approve of?”

Lena accepted his challenge with just enough temper to heighten her color and make her nearly irresistible. Yes, Hal needed to stay in the kitchen while she changed, or their departure would be delayed indefinitely.

Tom and Alex helped clear the table before leaving for work. After the conversation at breakfast, they understood that their housemates would be gone for a few days, possibly longer. Tom decided to stay in the basement for his ‘monthly’ that night, as the weather was supposed to be crap anyway. Alex was glad to hear it; the weather didn’t bother her, but she hated the idea of Tom being out in it all night.

Alex went with Tom into the woods on full moon nights now. The first month, she’d taken his chicken on a string and tied it up in a tree, then watched the wolf run its circle and fall asleep. When Tom woke up in the morning she was there with his clothes and the chicken, which became his lunch.

The third month, things had gone slightly awry when the wolf crossed the track of a fallow deer and followed that scent, forgetting about the chicken. Alex wasn’t worried at first, but as werewolf Tom got closer to an area where they’d seen signs of people, she decided to step in. She got their chicken-on-a-string and rent-a-ghosted in front of the wolf, hoping to draw it back to their safe area. The wolf stopped short when it saw her, but only momentarily. It lunged at her, or at the chicken, and Alex barely avoided its claws.

Alex lost her cool at that point in the proceedings and rent-a-ghosted behind the wolf, clonked it on the back of the head with their chicken, and let out a string of profanity that Tom recognized even in wolf form. She took off running and he followed her back to their designated area, clear back to the tree, where she tied up the chicken and sat on a branch. She watched him as he paced the ground below and watched her.

Eventually the wolf shook its head in an all-too-human expression of frustration, curled up at the base of the tree, and went to sleep. In the morning Tom thanked Alex for keeping him away from people and Alex suggested that they try to get the wolf used to her company. Tom agreed.

Now Alex ran with the wolf and sometimes lured it into hide-and-seek by dropping pieces of meat for it to find and eat. Tom refused to let her use that name for their activity when their housemates were around because it sounded like a child’s game and the wolf was no child. It was a fearsome predator that just happened to like chasing a ghost around in the woods. Tom called it safe hunting because nothing was killed or injured during the game, and he considered it training for the possibility that Alex would need to lure the wolf away from a human some day.

Tom had worried that the wolf might scare Alex, but she’d proven more than a match for it. He was grateful for her company and felt more secure during his changes than he had since McNair’s death. Still, it would be nice to give her a full moon night at home this month, especially with bad weather in the forecast. With their housemates gone, Tom didn’t have to consider their reactions to the noise of his transformation or to the wolfy scent that Hal particularly hated.

= = =

Hal said goodbye to his friends as they left for work, turned on the dishwasher, and hung the chef’s apron in the pantry next to Lena’s. He carefully checked himself for crumbs and wrinkles before going upstairs to wash up and get his suit jacket from his room. He was giving Lena time to dress in whatever she’d found to wear. Hal had investigated her wardrobe more closely than she realized and knew she had more suitable business clothes than she’d chosen for the day.

He’d chosen his suit carefully with the thought of making an appropriate first impression on Lena’s executive staff, most of whom he’d worked with but none of whom he’d met. Although he knew them by sight as well as voice after regular video conferences, they would be seeing him for the first time.

Hal had been given no reason to wear most of the clothes Lena had presented him on his birthday because he seldom went beyond the confines of Barry and its limited social circles. He looked forward to their brief stop in London for several reasons, not the least of which was the chance to dress more properly than he usually could. He was vain about his looks and didn’t mind the opportunity to make the most of them, so he was eager to see the impression he made. The faces of those he met were his only mirror, but it was a mirror he knew how to read.

The suit was charcoal grey with subtle colorations in the weave of the fabric that gave it depth and character. He paired it with a tie in diagonal stripes of black, grey, and blue. Conservative colors, but the secret was in the thin stripe of vibrant ocean blue surrounded by quiet shades. It reminded Hal of the waters off Sicily on a clear, warm day. He wore a rich blue shirt that matched the tie and his memories perfectly. Hal mentally thanked Lena for knowing that he would have the confidence to carry it off. It struck just the right note.

He was adjusting his cuffs when he heard a wolf whistle from the doorway, and he turned with a grin that froze on his face as he saw her. They were hardly noticeable when hanging in her wardrobe, the simple brown skirt with gold and copper stripes, the burnt orange blouse. But set against her golden skin and draped softly over her curves they made for a heart-stopping combination.

As he caught his breath, Hal returned her whistle with one of his own, a low sound of unmistakable appreciation. She laughed.

“I take it you approve, Mr. Executive Vampire?” Lena said as she did a slow turn for his benefit.

Rich brown leather shoes with small gold buckles; necklace and earrings of intricately linked antique gold with two types of gems; a matching clip holding her hair loosely at the nape of her neck—he approved. She was classically beautiful, tasteful, and she exuded confident authority.

“I knew you could look the part if you chose,” he said as he moved in close and gently lifted her necklace to examine it. He recognized the cabochon brown-and-gold striped stones immediately. The larger faceted stone in the center needed some thought.

“Tiger’s eye,” he said as he studied the stones with an appraiser’s eye, “and beautiful selections. Depth, luminance, lovely chatoyance*. Now what have we here?” He turned the large oval stone in his hand and studied the deep orange-gold center and red edges. The stone shifted colors as each facet caught the light. “Topaz? Imperial topaz?”

“Brazilian imperial topaz,” Lena said with a smile. “I thought it an appropriate choice.”

Hal smiled back at her. “Did you pop over to London for these? I felt a disturbance in the Force.”

The Force was their term for the connection they’d felt since Lena had inadvertently shared her soul with Hal. They could sense each other’s presence or absence and Lena felt Hal’s emotional state at times as well.

“I did,” she replied. “I wasn’t sure you’d notice.”

“I always notice.”

He let the topaz slip from his hand and drop back onto her skin just above her cleavage. His fingers followed the path of his gaze down to the gold-trimmed brown lace that peeked from beneath her open neckline. It was only visible from this intimate viewpoint, one that he assumed nobody else would be allowed. He unbuttoned one more button on her blouse to reveal the bra he’d seen tucked into the back of a drawer. It looked much better on her.

Hal traced the curves of her breasts along the top of her bra before firmly buttoning two buttons on her blouse.

“You make resisting temptation quite a challenge, my lady,” he murmured as he breathed in her scent. His fingertips lingered on the warmth of her skin as he leaned in until he felt the tickle of her hair against his cheek.

She turned her head just enough to rest her forehead against his cool skin. “We are all daughters of Eve at heart,” she said, “although I take exception to that particular Bible story.”

“The serpent in the garden? An obvious phallic metaphor,” Hal said as he forced himself away from her. “It seems that men will forever blame women for their beauty and excuse themselves for their violation of it.”

“Can I blame you for your beauty and violate you in turn? You are much too close to perfect in this suit, Hal.” She ran her hands across his shoulders and down his lapels. “Cool. Clean. Like deep water on a cold day.”

“And you are warm, sensuous. Perfumed embers waiting to blaze. Christ! I can’t help myself!”

His apology came as he pulled her to him. Her curves melded with the tense planes of his body; her fingertips trailed across his ears and along his hairline to the back of his head. One hand returned to caress his cheek as she gently kissed his neck. Hal felt her lips part and her tongue flick lightly across his skin. She was tasting him in a way he didn’t dare taste her. Not if they wanted to leave the house today. He breathed her in and exhaled shakily before speaking against her hair.

“If I kiss you now, your lovely clothes will become torn rags on the floor and we won’t make it to London today. My weakness.”

“I would welcome you, encourage you,” she said softly. “My weakness. But we must be stern with ourselves. We have business that must be completed.”

They disengaged from each other as Hal nodded his agreement. “So, you are cool and controlled beneath your warmth,” he said.

“And you burn under your cool exterior. We make a good couple.” Lena spoke as she went to their room to retrieve her travel bag. “I’ll bet we look good together. Too bad we can’t check the mirror and see for sure.”

“I’ve often thought that,” Hal agreed. “I can’t see myself in the mirror, but there may be a way for you to see us together.”

He grinned at her questioning look and guided her to stand in front of the mirror in their room.

“Watch carefully,” he said with a touch of the magician’s drama in his voice.

Hal stood next to the mirror as if he were standing next to her, and Lena’s eyes lit up. She could see them together!

“Ta da! How do we look?” he said with a flourish.

“Oh!” Her hands moved unconsciously to her heart as her eyes swept over the vision in front of her. _This is what we look like. This is what people see,_ she thought _. No wonder they smile! We belong together._

“We look good together. Fire and ice. Oh Hal, you have to do this for me every day!”

_Such a simple thing makes her so happy. I should have thought of it months ago_. Although he internally kicked himself, Hal smiled indulgently and hid his emotion in a glib retort. “As you wish, my lady. I am, as always, your willing servant.”

They moved reluctantly from the mirror as he continued. “In fact, I will happily carry your bag to the car and drive you to London.”

“I’m not fooled by that act. You just want to drive the Audi,” she teased with a smile. “Maybe we can trade out halfway. I love that car too, you know.”

“I’ll take first shift. An invisible driver is less likely to be noticed here than on crowded London streets,” Hal said as he picked up Lena’s bag.

She used an enhanced laptop case in the form of a brown leather messenger bag with room for a few personal items. His more traditionally-styled black traveler’s briefcase was downstairs. Hal had become a modern businessman who couldn’t consider leaving his laptop behind, although he assumed that they’d both leave all business accoutrements in the London hotel suite tomorrow. Their trip to Brazil and Bolivia had a different focus.

They’d discussed the risks of Hal driving and dismissed or minimized them by simply acknowledging human nature. If a human glanced in the mirror at a trailing car, the human brain registered the car, not the driver. As long as Lena was in the car, the human would see a person in a car and the brain would assume the rest. Her position would probably be overlooked because the brain often sees what it expects rather than what is there. The possibility of a car with left-hand drive would be the next logical thought from the human drivers ahead of them on the road.

Drivers who saw Hal first and then caught a look at them in the mirrors would very likely ‘see’ both of them because of the mind’s willingness to trick the eyes into seeing what should be there. The next thought by a discerning driver would be that Hal was momentarily out of sight and possibly reaching for something on the passenger side of the car. The fact that he couldn’t show up in a mirror wouldn’t be a consideration for most drivers. Those few who accepted the reality of vampires would note his species but would be unlikely to pursue any contact with him.

Hal believed that the slower speeds, stoplights, video monitors, and congestion of London traffic presented an insurmountable problem so Lena would have to drive there.  Modern technology was a blessing in many ways, but it made it increasingly difficult for a vampire to go about his business unnoticed.

The drive into London was uneventful. Lena navigated the late morning traffic easily and parked in her reserved spot in the garage of the building that housed her corporate office.

“Are you ready for this?” she asked as they rode the elevator to the top floor.

“Ready to prove that the invisible man is more than a disembodied voice and an empty chair? Very much so,” Hal replied.

“You’re more than just the invisible man, you know. I’m sure there’s been plenty of speculation around the office. You’ll be an object of curiosity for everyone, not just the people you’ve dealt with directly.”

“I realize that,” he said quietly. “You’ve made no attempt to hide the fact that you chose me to be your consort as well as trusted me with your business. I will do my best to prove myself worthy in the eyes of your staff.”

“I’m not worried about that. If they can’t see your worth, fuck ‘em.” Lena said exactly what he needed to hear, and Hal’s surprise and relief were apparent in his startled smile and slight relaxation.  “I just meant to be ready for a crowd,” she warned.

The elevator doors opened onto the lobby of her offices and demonstrated her understanding of the situation. There was an inordinate number of people lingering around the reception desk and coffee and tea station. Hal recognized a few familiar faces among the clusters of Lena’s employees, some of whom tried to hide their curiosity and some of whom outright stared. He hadn’t been made to feel this much like a piece of meat on the butcher’s block since his last conversation with Mr. Snow. The old vampire had demonstrated an uncanny knack for sizing up his ‘children.’

The humans and supernaturals on Lena’s executive staff had all signed strict non-disclosure agreements that prevented them from talking to outsiders. Stories were eagerly shared within the group, however, and their seldom-seen employer unwittingly encouraged the stories with her extended absences and mysterious past.

Hal Yorke was known to some of them before Lena entered his life, and he’d been discussed and researched avidly since he’d been introduced as her housemate. He was a vampire of legend and possibly the greatest monster and threat to humanity still living; Lena Perennis was a Seraphin Nepos of legend and the greatest monster hunter in history. He was the monster she chose to protect rather than destroy and the man who had lured her from her centuries-long hermitage.

Not only had the vampire been privileged to live with her, but he had seen Lena’s true power, an honor that nobody on her current staff could claim. He had been allowed to fight with her against a horde of his species that had invaded their home. He’d faced the fire of her anger against his own kind and lived, and he’d earned a place at her side.  

It was an open secret that Yorke had been involved in the mysterious disappearance of Andrzej, the much-despised Seraphin Nepos who had cast an unpleasant shadow over so many of Lena’s employees. Lena’s head of security had personally investigated the report of a struggle in Andrzej’s apartment, which was owned by the company. A quick review of the surveillance footage told him all he needed to know—Lena had dealt with her employee, and the vampire had been her partner in the matter.

It was assumed that the vampire had been part of the impetus for her worldwide assault on the vilest of men that had followed Andrej’s disappearance. She’d freely admitted that Hal had been her rock during the horrifying hours of her recuperation, the symptoms of which were explained briefly by her CEO. Raymond Doctorian was a Seraphin Nepos of limited power who had attempted healing once and nearly died from the injuries he’d taken upon himself.  He learned his limitations on the day he saved his granddaughter’s life, and he would never use that part of his ability again.

It was understood that Hal Yorke no longer hunted humanity or drank blood; it was suggested that he was enthralled by Lena and unable to leave her. Rumors of his good looks and prowess with women circulated freely, and those who hadn’t worked with him considered the possibility that Lena was simply keeping the vampire as her paramour. No wonder so many eyes were fixed on the elevator doors as they opened to reveal Lena’s partner.

Hal was almost disappointing when he first exited the elevator. He was almost too civilized, almost too perfect. But as he moved through the lobby with the easy grace of a seasoned and confident predator, the creature beneath the clothes made itself known. Through introductions and brief snippets of small talk the casually charming killer with the penetrating gaze, mesmerizing voice, and winsome smile claimed his place in the room, just as he had done so many times in the past. Vampire society had been an excellent training ground.

He belonged here, Hal told himself. He belonged with her, not because she chose him, but because she had done well in choosing him. He would make them all believe it, even he did not.

An assistant appeared almost immediately upon their arrival and began an exchange that set the tone.

“May I take your bags to Ms. Perennis’ office?” The polite young-looking ghost began speaking to Lena, but she directed him toward Hal with a glance.

“Of course,” Hal said as he handed over his briefcase and turned to ease Lena’s messenger bag from her shoulder in one fluid move. “Thank you,” he finished as he gave her bag to the assistant. He disappeared with their bags and returned in a few moments.

“They are on both on the desk,” he said. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Hal looked to Lena, who shook her head. “No, thank you.” He dismissed the ghost politely.

It was an insignificant event that solidified Hal’s place by Lena’s side for all those in attendance. When she introduced Hal to those members of her senior staff who needed to meet him, Lena displayed no hesitation or conversely, partiality. She neither protected nor encouraged him; she knew she didn’t need to. She stayed close without clinging and allowed Hal to touch and guide her through the space as he saw fit.

Hal had nearly completed their successful maneuver through the lobby when he saw a welcome and familiar figure striding down the corridor toward them. Bernard!

“Hal, it’s good to see you again,” Lena’s friend of 1500+ years extended his hand for a firm handshake as the two men said hello. Bernard gave Lena an appreciative look. “Taking care of our girl?”

“Doing my best,” Hal replied easily. “She’s quite the handful.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Lena retorted. “Bernard, what are you doing here? I thought you’d stop in later this afternoon.”

“I heard rumor of a ‘working lunch’ and feared that Hal would be subjected to one of your egregious ham sandwich affairs,” Bernard said glibly. He turned to his fellow connoisseur, “You’ll find a chilled luncheon waiting in the conference room. I’m sure it will be more suited to your tastes.”

“Thank you,” Hal said with a smile and a spark of humour in his eyes. “You don’t know how much I appreciate your consideration.”

Lena snorted. “Let’s just hope the fabulous food doesn’t distract him from the business at hand. Since you’re here, Bernard, will you stay and eat?”

“No, thank you. I have no interest in the inner workings of your empire,” the Seraphin Nepos said. “If I want a nap, I’ll take one on my own sofa. Let’s meet for tea this evening,” he added as he moved away. “I know just the place.”

Bernard always knew just the place to go for anything that involved food. It was his current passion, and one he was happy to share with friends. Bernard loved everything about food except its preparation, and although he owned several successful restaurants he never set foot in their kitchens. The mystery of its genesis was part of his enjoyment of a perfect meal.

Lena nodded toward the conference room as they passed the open door.

“Go ahead, we’ll join you shortly,” she said to the few members of her senior staff who had followed them down the corridor. She and Hal continued to her private office, where she used a retinal scanner to unlock the door.

“Hence the ghost as assistant,” Hal said. “I take it nobody else has access to this area?”

“Bernard does, of course. And you as well, if you like,” she replied as she flipped open the keypad cover to show a small QWERTY keyboard.

Lena punched in her security code, stepped aside, and signaled for Hal to take her place. He did so, stooping slightly to place his right eye at the proper level for the scan. He was relieved when the beam that passed over his eye caused no discomfort. His more-than-human sensitivity to light was in some situations a hindrance, and he’d unconsciously braced himself for a painful moment.

A quiet tone and quick flash of green light from the scanner signaled success. She punched in another alpha-numeric sequence and received another quiet tone and quick flash as the system accepted Hal’s unique identification. He noted that members of her senior staff watched from down the corridor as she demonstrated a level of trust in him that she’d given to none of them.

He opened the door for her, as is appropriate for a gentleman, and followed her into the private space that now belonged to him as well. As he closed the door behind them, the thought came unbidden: Mr. Snow would be proud.

* _Chatoyance is the cat’s eye effect seen in gemstones such as Tiger’s eye quartz and moonstone_.


	4. Controlling the Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to Saemay for clarifying my obscure ideas.

Once inside her private office Lena went directly to her bathroom to freshen up. Hal, left to his own devices, poured himself a drink of truly excellent single-malt Scotch. He was pleasantly surprised by the diversity and quality of the contents of her liquor cabinet. Perhaps they should invest in similar stock at home.

He sipped his Scotch and quietly studied the collection of statues, carvings, and paintings she displayed on open shelves behind her desk. They were from cultures around the globe, some of which he didn't recognize. They were ancient remnants of long-dead civilizations, diverse in style and quality, with only one unifying feature. They were all of her. He knew without being told, without a hint of physical resemblance among them. They were female. They represented power and beauty, sexuality and war, life and death. Of course they were her. Inanna. He whispered the name. How many other names had she held through the millennia?  

_ She belongs to you. _ The voice slid through his mind: lethal, smooth, arrogant. _All of this belongs to you. Well done, boy._

Hal tensed against the unwelcome thought. _No. I belong to her._

“Hey.” He startled slightly at her voice—he hadn't heard her approach. 

Lena’s hands rested on his shoulder blades as she leaned into him lightly. “Why so tense? Are you tired? Regretting our sleepless night?”

“No. Not at all. Never.” This was his cue to turn into her embrace, but instead he moved away to stand in front of the window.

She poured herself a short measure of the same Scotch he held. “Something’s got you worried,” she said. “It’s him, isn't it? I saw a hint of him in the way you carried yourself. He isn't just a part of the vampire.”

Hal’s indrawn breath and rigid form told Lena she was right. She hadn't been surprised that he avoided mention of his alter ego when confessing his past to Tom and Alex, but surely he couldn't expect to keep the secret from her. Lord Henry had been absent since they’d driven back the curse, but he wasn't completely gone. His Lordship was more a part of Hal than he wanted to admit.

“I saw him once, while you were still human,” she continued quietly as she came to stand next to him. “I didn't realize it at the time, but thinking back I’m sure it was him. That day you nearly killed the stable hands who called me a whore. You enjoyed it too much. It wasn't like you.”

Their eyes wandered across the London view as she waited for him to give her whatever truth he had to offer. He stood apart, guarded and still. She made no effort to reach him.

“Yes.” Hal’s voice was emotionless, almost weary. “He has been with me since childhood.” 

He took a sip of his drink.  _ It  isn't  blood, _  he thought.  _I always wish for blood in times of crisis. Blood gives me strength. Blood keeps me from caring._ He’d told her once that he believed himself to be insane. She’d disagreed at the time, but she might reconsider after hearing that he was, in fact, unhinged.

“I created Lord Henry of Yorke. As a child I listened to stories of the nobility and envied their lives. They could do whatever they chose. Nobody dared hurt them or their children. I made up my own stories, rewrote the horror of my life in my imagination. Cast myself as the hero rather than the victim. It was how I survived.”

Another sip of Scotch. Not blood, but pretty damned good. Lena had excellent taste. Or perhaps Bernard stocked her liquor cabinet.

“As I grew older Lord Henry became my inner voice and my strength. I gave him free rein in my head. He said the things I didn't dare say, did those things **I** wasn't strong enough to do. Until one day, I was. I turned against the client who—“ His jaw clenched; his lips twisted grimly over the words he wouldn't allow into the air. 

“I couldn't accept it any longer,” he said. “On that day he pushed past my mind and became _me._ For a time. He has continued to do so when I need him. When there was ugly business at hand, when I was paid to dominate and brutalize my clients, he appeared. Eventually I learned to call him forth at will.”

Hal glanced at her, standing calmly alongside him; her even breath and steady heartbeat comforted him. For over five centuries Lord Henry had been his most powerful, most dangerous ally—even Mr. Snow had declined to provoke that incarnation. The Old Master had encouraged Lord Henry, welcomed him, and used him, but had never directly threatened Hal’s darkest aspect. Lord Henry had given Mr. Snow his obedience and respect, and he had recognized that his Master could destroy him at will. The question neither vampire had risked answering was how much damage Lord Henry could do while being brought down. 

The woman standing with him was the only creature in Hal’s long existence to challenge Lord Henry directly and live. She didn't fear that part of him. She didn't fear anything on earth. 

“The vampire strengthened him, as you would expect. Gave him a much larger field on which to play. Mr. Snow—“ Hal hesitated. He seldom spoke of his relationship with the old vampire who’d become his twisted travesty of a father figure. “Mr. Snow said he saw the devil smiling in Lord Henry’s eyes. He said he’d met the devil, so he could always recognize him, no matter what shape he took.” 

“I wondered, in less enlightened times, if I might have allowed myself to be possessed by an evil spirit. Inadvertently opened myself up to those forces as a child. But no, he is my creation. My Frankenstein’s monster.”

“So you use him to excuse your worst behavior?” Lena’s simple question cut to the marrow.

“Yes,” Hal snapped. “To put it bluntly, yes. Of what value is a psychiatric disorder if you can’t blame it for your misdeeds?” He drained his Scotch and returned his empty glass to the bar.

“You consider his Lordship a psychiatric disorder?” She kept the humor from her voice. Hal’s ability to excuse his own behavior and delude himself about his nature was both impressive and entertaining.

“Self-diagnosed. The current term is dissociative identity disorder. I've yet to meet with a therapist, but I've read enough on multiple personalities to believe it is true.”

“But you’re self-aware. Classic multiple personality cases involve aspects that are unaware of each other. You also control Lord Henry and give him free rein when you choose. I don’t think you can choose to have a psychiatric disorder.”

“Perhaps I’m partially integrated. As for controlling him, that varies with the situation.”

Lena heard the defensiveness enter his voice again and decided to save the argument for later. Better to understand what he’s worried about right now.

“What is it about this situation that calls to him? Do you feel threatened?” She set her empty glass next to his.

“Not physically, but my role in your life and your business is in question. That is enough to lure him into the open. I feel him, pushing against my will. He loves the chance to flaunt his charm and prove his superiority. He wants to claim this place for himself, and he wants to make your people his servants. It would be easy for him, as simple as a look and a veiled threat.”

“That sounds like you as much as it does him,” Lena said with a quick smile. “Is there any risk of bloodshed from your Lord Henry today?”

“No. Of course not,” Hal said an impatient lift of his chin. “Ascendancy doesn't always require violence, even for a vampire. Give me **some** credit.”

She shrugged. “Then turn him loose.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“He’s part of you Hal, and if he can be useful, I say use him. What’s the harm?”

“You encourage me to indulge my madness? That’s terrible advice,” Hal declared. “He will want to take me over. He is too dangerous for me to simply ‘turn loose’. The aftermath of our battle with Hetty’s vampires proved that.”

“I disagree. You said he gave you strength when you needed it. I say you gave your strength to him, to hold until you called for it. You say he is your brutality. I say that you hide from your own cruelty by sequestering it in him.” 

She tapped him gently on the chest. “Your strength is here.” 

She tapped him again. “Your cruelty is here.” 

Another tap. “Your courage.” 

Another tap. “Your rage.” 

Another. “Your ambition.”

Another. “Your future.”

She set her palm over his skipping heart. Hal stared as her, wide-eyed and stunned by her clear assessment of his character. Mr. Snow had said nearly the same thing during their first private interview, had called him strong-willed, cruel, enraged, driven to make something of himself. The Old One had offered him the chance to harness those aspects of his nature and use them against the rest of the world. He’d offered Hal a destiny greater than any human could achieve.

What would she offer him? 

“ **I** am here,” she said with a soft pat of her palm on his heart. “Take of mine what you want. Use whatever aspects of yourself you choose. But do not tell yourself the lie that your choices aren't your own.” 

She walked to the door and turned, extending her hand. “Coming, my lord?”

Hal studied her—her nerve was staggering. She was truly fearless and more powerful than Mr. Snow and all of his vampires combined. Perhaps with her he could find a way to heal the gash he’d torn in his being so long ago. Perhaps with her he could find a new path to greatness. He squared his shoulders and welcomed Lord Henry of Yorke with a tilt of his head. 

“Indeed I am, my lady.”

= = =

Six seats were already taken. Of the few remaining, two together at one end of the oval conference table had been clearly left for them. Table service waited at their places and the buffet was along the wall behind them. They went directly to the table in tacit understanding that the decision not to begin eating right away set them apart from the rest of the group. Hal smoothly held Lena’s chair and made sure she was settled before taking his place beside her. The employee who had been filling his plate at the buffet hurried back to his seat as Lena addressed the man at the far end of the table, her CEO.

“Raymond, you asked for this time. I assume you have something on your mind?” 

As Raymond Doctorian swallowed quickly in order to answer the question, Hal nonchalantly reached for his water. His lady’s neutral tone of voice was spot on, as was her timing as she signaled her clear control of the meeting.

“Yes. We so seldom have the pleasure of your presence that I thought an in-person meeting would do us all some good. There is nothing else quite as engaging as direct eye contact,” Raymond began. He took a drink of water and politely dabbed at his mouth with a linen napkin before continuing.

“There is one particular issue that I believe needs consideration…” he hesitated, suddenly unsure of himself. Lena’s uncharacteristic manner, combined with the aura of cool authority emanating from her vampire consort, threw him off balance. They presented a front unlike any he’d experienced during their numerous video conferences, and the fact that he could see Hal for the first time was only part of the difference. 

“You refer to the drain on our resources caused by my support of the Safe Angel Initiative?” she asked. “Hal has already warned me that we are nearing the edge of solvency because of it.”

They noted the combination of surprise and relief on the faces around the table; it would have been a difficult topic to introduce without offending her. Hal continued speaking where Lena had paused.

“And we have developed a strategy to remove the burden of support from our corporation,” he said smoothly. “Our stopover in London is the first step in placing the plan into action.”

Our . We. Two single unremarkable syllables, used by each of them in turn and in the proper context, and Hal’s power was established. Implicit but crystal clear. Done without forethought or plan, and as effortless as a waltz across the kitchen at Honolulu Heights. 

A knot at his core relaxed as Hal sensed the recognition of their partnership by Lena’s senior staff. His senior staff. She said he could have what he wanted, and Hal decided that he wanted it all. His ambition rested in him, just as Lena had said, and Lord Henry would serve to support that ambition.

“That’s—that’s good news,” Raymond stuttered through his cognition of the subtext he’d sensed since Hal and Lena entered the conference room. “Can you offer a timeline?”

Hal gave Lena an arched eyebrow and a half-smile as he answered. “I think we may have a resolution by month’s end. Don’t you agree, my lady?”

“Yes, my lord. Quite a reasonable expectation,” she said. “We will attend to the details ourselves, of course,” she added. 

Her statement quelled any potential questions about their strategy, and her easy use of the title ‘my lord’ elevated Hal’s stature with the group. He called her ‘my lady’ regularly and her staff found it endearing and comforting—the vampire recognizing her superior nature—but she hadn't used the equivalent term for him until now. It sat uneasily in the room, Hal noted. He would need to prove his place more adamantly.

The meeting moved forward as each member of the assembly spoke in turn.

Andrzej’s replacement offered her personal thanks for the confidence Lena had placed in her and demonstrated her people skills as well as her mastery of financial management during a brief question-and-answer exchange. She was already more proficient in her position than the traitorous Seraphin Nepos had ever been.

Hal murmured a quick offer to bring Lena some food before going to the buffet behind them to choose from Bernard’s generous gifts. He was still picking his choices when a disagreeable topic opened for discussion at the table. The VP for Euro-Asian trade relations suggested temporarily lifting their embargo on trade with countries that the United Nations blacklisted for persistent human rights violations. At one time Hal would have agreed with the idea, but since experiencing for himself the trauma of those victims, he’d modified his attitude. Besides, Lena would never approve, however rational the argument.

Here was his opportunity to confirm his newly-claimed authority. He half-turned from the buffet and glanced at the man. 

“Benjamin.” 

The name was softly-spoken, drawn out with a hint of humorous chastisement that did nothing to hide the menace in his voice. Lena remained expressionless as a chill settled over the room. Goose flesh appeared on the skin of human, Seraphin Nepos, and werewolf alike as the Old One made his disapproval known. 

Hal set a canapé precisely on his plate as he continued. “This matter was resolved two weeks ago. Why are you returning to it now?”

Benjamin’s flushed face paled dramatically and sweat popped out on his brow as he struggled for a coherent reply. “I—I thought—given the current—current state of things—financially—“

Hal added the thought Benjamin dared not verbalize.  “And given that Lena hadn't responded to your proposal personally, you thought it wise to broach the subject again.” 

He provided a parody of a kind smile as he set his plate on the table. 

“Really Benjamin, you shouldn't have. I was trying to spare you the embarrassment,” he said with a slight movement in the man’s direction, “as well as the potential—“ Benjamin shivered in obvious fear as Hal paused “—downturn in your career that presenting such a ludicrous idea would invite.” 

A hush followed. Hal knew that his slightest movement in Benjamin’s direction would send the man scurrying for safety. He waited until the telltale signs—increased heart rate, shallow respiration, widened pupils—told him that the executives had all recognized the threat he posed. When he shifted his weight back and reached a casual hand for his chair, their relief was palpable.

“You've already dealt with this, my lord?” Lena watched Hal take his seat as she spoke.

“Indeed I have, my lady.”

She popped a strawberry into her mouth and enjoyed the burst of cool sweetness. She knew Hal had chosen them for her to eat. She shrugged. 

“Next topic,” she said. 

Hal glanced at the utensils waiting for his use. “No knives,” he murmured.

A beautifully-wrought knife appeared in her hand. She set it on the table between them, where it glowed softly against the wood. Another sign of his unique place in her world.

“Thank you,” he said politely as he used it to slice into his stuffed tomato crown. The blade slipped through his food and into the porcelain plate, leaving a visible gouge that he ignored. 

Hal savoured the minced crab, dill, and tomato as their executive team scrambled to find the next topic to discuss. “This truly is delicious,” he said to his partner. “Will you try it?”

She smiled. A forkful was already on the way to her mouth. She leaned toward him slightly, took the bite from his fork, and nodded her approval. 

“I think I need my own plate,” she said as she pushed away from the table.

In one graceful move Hal rose from his seat and drew back her chair. He returned to his seat and fixed his steady gaze on Raymond.

“Perhaps you can catch me up on our South American activities?” Hal smiled a cool smile that stretched the length of the conference table and settled the flustered activity. “Anything that would benefit from a personal touch.”

= = =

The final meeting of the afternoon was between Hal and the European representative of his Hetty-hunting team. They had been singularly unsuccessful in finding the elusive vampire, and Hal had a theory as to why.

They met in Lena’s office, using the table while she worked at her desk. It would be a short meeting, after which he and Lena would do their necessary shopping and meet Bernard for tea. 

Yasmin Griggory was punctual, unprepossessing, and tactfully direct. She went about her business unnoticed by most of the world, which made her a good choice to manage a largely-covert organization. She was also undaunted by supernaturals, which gave her an advantage over most humans who came into contact with vampires.

She looked Hal directly in the eyes as she declared, “The team has been a complete failure thus far. Are you as frustrated as I am?”

“More so, as my life hangs in the balance,” he replied. 

“I don’t understand it. With the information you've given us, not to mention your continued advice and guidance, we should have found her by now.”

“I agree. So why haven’t we?” There was no threat in Hal’s question. He sounded as if he were musing, or speaking to himself. Silence followed as he waited for Yasmin’s reply.

“I hate to consider the best answer to that question,” she said quietly. She frowned at her own thoughts.

“I believe we must consider it, however,” he said. 

“A traitor. A spy.”

“Yes.”

“It could be me,” Yasmin said. “You've already thought of that.”

“You've been the subject of a thorough background investigation,” Hal said, “as have the other members of the team. I’m fairly comfortable in my belief that you are not Hetty’s spy. If I weren't, you wouldn't be here.”

He slid a thick folder across the table. “Here are the results of our investigation. Yours are included. I’ve flagged my concerns and believe I’ve narrowed the field to two possibilities. I’d like your input.”

She accepted the folder without opening it. “If I agree with your assessment?”

“Whether you agree or not, we must plan to expose the traitor in our midst. Study your fellows. Consider the best way to lay a trap. We will meet again upon our return to London.” Hal glanced at Lena. 

“I’d say a week or so,” she answered his unspoken question. They both knew that if their detour to Bolivia proved a success there would be no need for another meeting with Yasmin, but the details of their trip were known only to themselves. Even Tom and Alex were unsure of their specific itinerary.

“That should be plenty of time,” Yasmin said. “I have one question.”

Hal sat back in his chair and nodded for her to continue.

“How will the traitor be dealt with?”

“What do you suggest?” Hal asked mildly.

Her dark brown eyes met his hazel ones. “Leave it to me,” she said. Cold anger turned her dark eyes even darker as she spoke. “I don’t tolerate betrayal.”

“Nor do I,” Hal said. He blinked and met her angry look with soulless black stone. She didn’t flinch but he heard her pounding heart. An appropriate response. “But I will listen to any resolution you offer,” he said. His eyes returned to hazel. The meeting concluded shortly thereafter.

= = =

Shopping was accomplished easily enough, thanks to high-end establishments that allow clients to rest in private spaces while personal attendants fetch items for their approval. Tea with Bernard was delicious, as expected. He sat with them at the owner’s table in his best restaurant and cordoned off an area around them so they could enjoy private conversation as well as an exquisite meal. 

An extra treat for Hal was his chance to escort a beautiful woman through an exclusive restaurant for the first time in decades. The bloom of envy and desire on the faces they passed was his own little gift to his ego. Some wanted to be him; some wanted him; he enjoyed both reactions.

= = =

Finally they reached their suite at Hotel 41. Although it was still early evening Hal assumed that Lena would want to rest after their sleepless night and busy day, but he was mistaken. She headed straight to the sound system and put on some music. His lady was full of surprises today. 

He began to loosen his tie as the slightly scratchy sound of an old recording filled the room. Old blues. He tugged on his tie. _What kind of mood is she in? Nostalgic?_  His thoughts idled through his tired mind.

The single guitar. Then that voice. Nothing exceptional except her power and the brazen joy with which she sang. Bessie Smith, queen of sex put to music. Hal’s private smile turned up the corner of his mouth. 

_ Christ, I’m in for it tonight,  _ he thought _._

The notion pleased him more than he expected, considering how exhausted he was. Apparently Lord Henry was still in the vicinity and ready to play.

Lena’s shoes slid across the floor and thumped against the wall as she sidled up to Hal and took his loosened tie in her hands. She smiled as Bessie’s voice spoke for her. _“I’m wild about that thing, it makes me laugh and sing. Give it to me papa, I’m wild about that thing…”*_

She pulled his tie open and out from under his shirt collar with long smooth tugs of her supple hands. Oh, those hands. He unbuttoned the top button on his shirt—suddenly he needed to breathe. She tossed his tie onto a sofa and reached for the buttons on his jacket. 

_ “Do it easy honey, don’t get rough…” _ One button. Her hands rested against him as she undulated to the music, lips parted, eyes half-closed.

_ “Give me every bit of it…” _ Two buttons. Her hands slid up his lapels and pushed the jacket off his shoulders and down his arms. He let it fall to the floor. She was already looking at his waistcoat. Hal wished he’d left the damned thing at home. 

_ “Don't you know I love it and I want it all?” _ Three buttons. He hoped he’d left the bottom button open on the waistcoat. He couldn’t remember.

_ “You touched my button, I'm wild about that thing…” _ Hal was more than ready to touch her button, but apparently she was going to make him wait until she’d worked her way through all of his first.

Lena finished with his waistcoat and eased her way along his shoulders as she pushed it over his coiled muscles. Her hands curled around his arms, fingers following the lines that flexed and tensed under the fabric of his sleeves as she slid the waistcoat down. It joined his jacket on the floor. She ran a finger down his shirt front, touching each button as she went. Hal tried to count along. One. Two? Thr—Jesus! More. Fucking. Buttons. Why exactly was business-appropriate dress so important?

She caressed a shirt button as Bessie reminded them both of the pleasures to come. He began tapping out a rhythm of fingers against his thumbs in a desperate attempt to control himself.

_ “Kiss me like you mean it, I'm wild about that thing…” _ Hal decided to take Bessie’s advice. He pulled Lena against him, one hand between her shoulder blades and the other on her delectable backside, and kissed her like he meant it, because he did. He meant it wrinkled suit and popped buttons. He meant it torn blouse and awkward landing on the sofa that waited somewhere behind him. Hell, he meant it right there, fall if they had to and fuck as they landed.

She pushed away from him with a laugh. It wasn’t going to be that easy. Mr. Executive Vampire Fashion Snob was getting his comeuppance.

He watched her go, hips swaying as she moved into the open space designed for dancing. The tinny guitar was replaced by tinny piano and a filthy-rough trombone. She lured him to her, arms outstretched as her shoulders rolled and those supple hands beckoned. Hal took a breath. Fine, he’d follow the rules and deal with the buttons. 

The “Empty Bed Blues”* wailed through the room as he unbuttoned her blouse and tossed it toward his abandoned jacket. She pulled his shirt out from his trousers, undid the last buttons, and sent it flying. The bra earned a moment of admiration, so the brown lace was still in his hands when she dragged his vest up his torso and over his head. The two garments tangled and sailed through the air. Their hips pressed together as they swayed to the rhythm of blatant innuendo; their hands caressed naked skin they’d been aching to touch all day.

_ “He's a deep sea diver with a stroke that can't go wrong. He can stay at the bottom and his wind holds out so long…” _

“I swear she’s singing about you,” Lena murmured as she dragged her cheek along the side of his neck. Hal chuckled as she kissed his throat as if she wanted to devour him. He was certain he and Bessie Smith had never met.

_ “Oh, he knows how to thrill me, he thrills me night and day. He's got a new way of loving, almost takes my breath away…” _

“Tell me the truth, did you visit the States in the late ‘20’s?” She was teasing. Hal knew that, but he was flattered by her suggestion nonetheless. Until her kisses along his jaw and under his chin distracted him from everything else, even the perfect breasts cosseted in his hands. 

She wrinkled her nose and scratched it on his stubble—one of her more adorable moves, and one that twisted his gut. So innocent, but it drove his hunger for her deep into his core and sent echoes of a thousand sweet young bodies through his lust-addled mind. His Lordship had loved those succulent children in his own depraved fashion. Hal pushed the memories aside and claimed her mouth in a mind-clearing kiss instead.

_ “When my bed get empty make me feel awful mean and blue. My springs are getting rusty, sleeping single like I do…” _

“No more rusty springs for me!” 

She broke their kiss to whisper gleefully against his full, rich lips, and she felt them stretch into a grin in response. He bit her lower lip gently and held it so he could slide his tongue along it and taste her—taste the danger of her and the hint of his own destruction waiting just a few cells away. 

Like a sideshow freak, he played with fire and blood. 

Finally, finally she kissed him like she meant it. No more slow caresses; her hands undid his trousers faster than he thought possible while he pushed up her skirt and ripped her panties apart. As lacy pieces fluttered to the floor, the scent of her desire burst into the air, so strong he could taste her with every breath. She pulled his erection toward her—demanding and pleading at once. A hand around her thigh, a push-off as if they were dancing—a lift—he arched his back—the brush of warm moist flesh against his tight abdomen. She settled over him, hands on his shoulders, legs around his waist, but their balance was off. Hal knew they’d fall but he didn’t care, he wouldn’t let her go—couldn’t—leave her hot sweet body. 

Her wings unfurled, stirring a gentle current around them.

“Ballast,” she said.

They stabilized. He set his feet apart, a firm foundation and a means of keeping his trousers from dropping to his ankles. His hands cupped her backside and held her firmly in place. His back still arched a bit because it kept him buried deeply in her and nothing, not even angel wings, was going to interfere with that.

They rocked together, and the subtle shifting of their bodies against each other kindled a shower of sparks that spread through their bellies. The edges of her wings wafted gently in time to their sway.

She pulled herself to him for a tongue-tangled kiss between songs. “You Gotta Give Me Some,”* she said as they eased into a new rhythm of guitar and piano.

“I believe I just did.”

“Song title.” 

She joined Bessie Smith for snatches of lyric between lingering, hungry kisses; they enjoyed the banter that teased them both as the tension between them built. 

_ “I want a piece of your good old meat…” _

“Old? Pot, meet kettle.”

“ _I crave your round steak_ …”

“Apparently.” 

_ “…your sweet sweet lollipop…” _

“Flirt.”

_ “I love all day suckers…” _

Plural? How disconcerting.”

_ “…want a lots a cream…” _

“Not long, now.”

_ “Catch it when you come…” _

“Which I appreciate.”

_ “You gotta give me some.” _

“This would go better if we could lie down,” Hal said breathlessly, “or even lean against a wall. I need more purchase.”

“What’s the matter? Never fucked an angel before?” She grinned and tightened her legs around his waist.

“Every day. The wings change the game, however.” He tightened his grip on her backside and ground against her.

“Speaking of changing the game...” She lifted them off the floor with a downthrust of outspread wings, like a giant bird of prey with her legs to hold him captive. “Off with the clothes.” Her command was tempered by a languorous kiss.

He kicked off his shoes. The trousers and pants slid easily away with a few wriggles of his legs. In an instant her feet caught the back of his thighs and pulled him tighter against her.

“Now mine,” was her next command. Her lovely skirt was torn in half and tossed aside.

“Now we’re ready to travel,” she said with a hint of Bessie’s naughty joy. 

_ Travel? _ Hal thought. _Shit._

= = =

*”I’m Wild About That Thing” by Spencer Williams

*”Empty Bed Blues” by J.C. Johnson

*”You Gotta Give Me Some” by Spencer Williams and Clarence Williams


	5. On Tour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena takes Hal on a little trip. Trigger warning for non-consensual sex.

Lena’s wings wrapped around them as she spoke. Hal barely felt the familiar shift in the air, but a moment later his sock feet landed on warm sand. Her wings unfurled to reveal an empty beach and full moon reflecting on boundless water. He raised his head from the shoulder he’d been kissing and automatically reconnoitered. Northern Hemisphere, European based on moon position. Warm air, warm sand. Mediterranean?

“Ready for that lie down?” She began to pull him forward with her weight and a thrust of her wings.

“A favor first?” His voice was strained. He wanted to fuck her into the sand, but he remembered those wings. During their post-vampire-slaughter sex her wings had torn his hands badly as he clawed at them to get to her blood.

She paused and uprighted them.

“Your wings. They’ve done some damage in the past.”

A quick rustle and grey steel became luxurious white feathers ruffled with lacy down. It was a cushion fit for royalty that spread under her as she settled them onto the sand.

“I assume you want tops,” she said, “since you mentioned purcha—ohmygod!”

His long smooth thrust spoke for itself. His next one was even more eloquent. She stifled her whimper but he heard the catch in her throat, and he grinned down at her as he cupped her face in his hands.

“Show time,” he whispered, and suddenly Lena wasn’t sure who she was having sex with.

His kiss lingered—deepened as he took control of her at last. Her world became him, only him. Pleasure pulled at want, want teased at pleasure. Impossible need that grew from desire fulfilled and still mounting. So good, so good, **so good** and not enough, more and more and more until nothing but hunger fed by him, feasting on him, every nerve screaming with it, hands clutching, muscles tensing, breath gone—

Wrapped in a shuddering down cocoon, caressed by angel wings, Hal wrestled the demon of his ferocious desires and gave himself to her instead. His Lordship prowled the beach, commanding him to rend and twist, to bruise and break, to pull the wings from her shoulders and bury her in the sand. The darkest part of him urged him to destroy his angel, just as he’d destroyed every good thing that had ever entered his life.

_Not true. There’s Leo and Pearl. Annie and Eve. Tom and Alex. Her._

His sanity stretched thin and taut, a guitar string wound too tightly on the peg.

“Good… so good… so _f-ucking_ good,” she whispered. The peg loosened. She wanted him; she needed him.

“Hal,” she gasped. “…oh Hal.”  The string began to hum in tune with the sound of her pleasure. The correct pitch, no longer strained, as she called him back to her.

Her body gave him a safe melody and he moved into harmony with it, playing along her heaving, twisting climax, letting her flex and clench around him, pull him in, hold him tight. He came deep in her. She didn’t notice. He didn’t mind. She didn’t need to know the battle he’d won.

Hal held Lena close and brought her gently back from oblivion. Her wings slid away and spread out on the sand. The canopy gone, moonlight shone on their sweat-sheened bodies as he slowly moved in her. Slowly. Softly. He stopped. She nodded.

“Thank you,” she said.

In the quiet aftermath he stretched out alongside her and turned to admire the moon. In spite of the reaction they’d triggered in him, he couldn’t help enjoying the sensation of her wing under him. Her feathers were much more pleasant against his damp skin than sand would be.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“Not sure. Mediterranean coast. Italy? One of the islands?”

“We’re naked on a beach a thousand miles from home, and you aren’t sure where we are?”

“We’re not naked. You have on socks and I have my jewelry.”

“That hardly counts.”

“Want a swim before we leave? I’ll bet the water’s warm.”

“In a moment.” He brushed a hand along the wing he was lying on. It was lush, almost sinfully so.

“You were holding back,” she said quietly.

She could tell, damn her keen perception. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he replied.

“Liar.”

“I didn’t want that part of me to win.”

“That sounds closer to the truth. Was it the wings? Too cliché angel for His Lordship?”

“He wanted me to shred them, to tear them off your body,” Hal said quietly. Too tired to hide from her. It wouldn’t work anyway. She always knew.

“You can’t. Not as in ‘I won’t let you’ but as in ‘you literally can’t hurt them.’ You might knock a few feathers out of line, but you can’t really damage them.”

She curled her free wing over them both. “Go ahead, see for yourself.”

“Too tired. Maybe later.”

She recognized his need for quiet and rest, and she respected it. No more questions, no more talk of Lord Henry.

She felt him settle and relax next to her, so she turned on her side and rested against him. Her wings curved gracefully around them both and they fell asleep in their nest on the warm sand.

= = =

Hal awoke to moonlight and kisses. A warm sea breeze ruffled the canopy of feathers overhead.

“Not in London, then.”

Lena raised her lips from the soft skin on his neck, just below his whisker line. It was one of her favorite spots on his body, and one that she frequented.

“We haven’t had our swim yet,” she reminded him.

He guessed by the moon’s position but checked his watch anyway. Two hours. Not long enough to get the sleep he needed, but ample time to be unconscious and nude on a strange beach. Hal corrected himself as he sat up. Nearly nude. His sand-crusted socks were still on his feet. He pulled them off and stood up, shaking the sand from them as he did.  

Hal resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn’t get back to London until she’d had her swim. It was a good idea, come to think of it. They were here. The water **did** look inviting. And he felt less than fresh and smelled a bit gamy.

She rose to her feet when he did. He’d pinned her in place by falling asleep on her outspread wing, and she hadn’t wanted to disturb him. Her wings fluffed automatically as she stretched, then settled and disappeared. Moonlight caught her jewels as she removed her earrings.

“Can I borrow a sock?”

He caught on immediately and held it open for her so she could drop her earrings in.

“You don’t seem at all uncomfortable to be standing here in the nude,” he observed. “Does it not bother you?”

“Nope. Does it bother you?”

“Yes. I feel…exposed.”

She dropped her necklace in the sock and added the clasp from her hair.

“I’ve lived in civilizations with much less focus on clothing,” she said. “Brits are obsessed with covering themselves, it seems.”

“I am firmly in the British camp,” Hal replied.

He took off the platinum Rolex watch she’d given him and dropped it into his other sock. Hardly fit containers for their valuables, but there was nothing else close to hand. He set the socks on a stone as they walked to the water.

She slipped her arm around his waist; he draped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her close.

“Clothes protect us,” she said quietly. “They keep the world from seeing us too clearly. You use clothes to project the image you want people to see.”

“You don’t?”

Water slid around their ankles. Slightly cool, but not alarmingly so.

“You’ve seen my wardrobe. I wear what I like. If anything, I use clothes to fool people into believing that I’m less than I am.” She looked at him, with his pale skin glowing in the moonlight. A marble statue come to life, perfect in form and dimension; every move revealed the power and potency of his body.

“You do that, too,” she said.

The water was at her hips. She pulled away from him and dived into the gentle undulations. She resurfaced several yards away, turned to him with a smile, and began swimming parallel to the shore.

He watched her for a moment before joining her. No wasted effort—clean slices through the water. They’d swum and played in the quiet waters of the lake on her estate centuries ago. Here small waves pushed against them and there was just enough tide on the night of the full moon to lift them. They met, brushed along each other and dove in teasing counterpoint, one under the other. Once refreshed, they made their way toward shore.

Hal stopped in waist-deep water. “I’m loathe to expose myself again,” he said. “This truly is disconcerting.”

“You’re gorgeous and I’m the only one looking.”

“I hope so.”

“Social conventions aside, you hate being naked here, don’t you?” she said. “You didn’t used to be like this. I think the honesty bothers you.”

“Of course it bothers me,” he said curtly as he moved away from her and out of the water. “I’m a vampire now, and clothes are part of my camouflage. My entire existence, the existence of my species, depends on lying to humanity. Lying is more natural than breathing to a vampire.”

She followed him onto dry sand. “There’s nobody to lie to here,”

“That could change at any moment. Doesn’t this feel unsafe to you?” He picked up his socks—their treasure trove.

“It feels fun and a little bit dangerous, the threat of getting caught. I kind of like it,” she said as she took the socks from him. “You act like you’ve never done this before. Haven’t you ever had sex on a beach?”

He had. Long ago. He and his ‘friends’ had joined a party of revelers on an evening much like this one. He looked across the stretch of sand and water and breathed in the salt sea smell. With it came the lingering scent of blood in the air, a mist of iron-rich, fat-sweet blood bursting from corpulent ladies who thought he’d been so charming—so delightful. They had been easy prey, quickly contained by their own drunken terror and brought to Lord Henry by his attendants. Well-trained attendants who knew to keep the women alive and bring them to him first. His attendants were content with his leavings, or at least they had the sense not to complain.

He’d fairly leaped onto the mothers, gobbling their blood as he’d violated them, barely taking the time to enjoy their cushioned bodies on the hard sand. The daughters…well, he wasn’t quite as hungry by that point. He had the patience to play with his food. The first and last man they’d ever know. A different kind of violation, forcing pleasure from terror, adding humiliation to the nightmare because he wanted to taste their climax in the blood.

The men had to watch him defile, seduce, and torture their women. The ones who protested the most loudly had been brought to him next, thrown into the sand before the blood-drenched monster who decided their fate. Forced onto a pile of corpses, brutalized while choking on their bile, they had quickly learned not to fight the abomination that used blood to slicken his way into their bodies.

He’d taken a dip in the sea to wash off when he’d finished reveling.

Sex on a beach? Oh yes. It had been a hell of a night.

“Apparently you have.”

Her voice, quiet and concerned as she answered her own question, brought him back to the present. He was staring into nothing, rigid, black-eyed and fanged. He blinked, closed his mouth, turned from her and walked back into the water. He dove under and stayed under, dug his hands into the sand and forced his way along the bottom until he found a large rock, grabbed it, and held on. If he opened his mouth, if he breathed now, would he drown? He knew better. He could fill his lungs with seawater and survive. He’d tried it.

He couldn’t face her; he couldn’t explain what had triggered the vampire. Above all else, he couldn’t tell her that tonight she and Lord Henry weren’t that far apart—they both worked against him to control his movements. They both used him to satisfy their own desires.

He’d just stay here and she would go home without him. No, he saw the lie within the thought. He had to go back to her before she came looking for him. Hal gave in to her resolute love, stronger and more important to him than anything else in his world. He would wear his weakness rather than his clothes, because she required it of him.

He surfaced, returned to shore, and faced her silently.  As water ran off his body he waited for her steady heartbeat to calm his own. She reached out and gave him a gentle hug; he responded, grateful that she didn’t question him about what she’d seen. Her contact settled him, realigned his being until he was in tune with her again.

“Time to go?” she asked.

“Yes. I’d like to take a shower,” he replied. He needed to scrub the memory of blood from his skin.

He continued, trying to find a way back to their former easy banter. “Will your pinpoint landing skills be taking us directly to the shower in our suite, or will we land on the cold tile floor? I’d like to know what to expect, my lady.”

He shivered as water dripped from her hair and over his arms. A warm shower would be lovely.

His socks disappeared from her hand as a smile spread across her face. He knew that smile. It almost always meant trouble.

“We’re not going back to London,” she said. “You know the term ‘around the world’? Well, tonight it’s literal.”

***

Hal dragged himself into consciousness. Exhausted, aching, gritty in very uncomfortable places—he felt like a ‘horse that’d been rode hard and put up wet.’ Ye gods, what had she brought him to? The only thing he could think of to describe his condition was one of her horrifying colloquialisms.

He groaned and pulled his head from under the pillow, turned, and managed to focus briefly on the clock. Nearly 3. Sunlight. That would mean 3 in the afternoon. It was tomorrow. Or was it still today? He’d lost track.

He rolled slowly onto his back. Christ, he needed more sleep. Another glance at the bedside cabinet, to verify a detail he’d nearly overlooked. His socks, lumpy with their treasures. She’d teleported them back to the hotel before taking him on tour. Another trick he didn’t know about. She was full of surprises.

They’d chased the moon around the world, from continent to continent, hemisphere to hemisphere. Lena had told him once that the earth was her playground, and last night she’d proved it.

The shower he wanted came in the form of a waterfall in Costa Rica, naturally heated through proximity to a volcano. No thundering torrent, just a soft spray from rocks overhead, and a warm pool to relax in as well. She’d let him relax briefly, at any rate, before having her way with him.

Hal corrected his thoughts. That wasn’t an accurate turn of phrase. She’d been a considerate lover, beginning with a back and shoulder massage that he’d reciprocated. They’d lounged together in the warm water; he’d leaned back against a sloping shelf of rock and she’d lain between his legs, her head on his chest. They’d watched the moon and stars for a little while—he’d never seen them from that side of the world. He’d let the warm humid air and warmer water soothe him, and he was about to doze off when she’d turned and slid down, moving her attentions below the waist. Her underwater mouth action had curled his toes and resurrected his cock from the dead, and when she mounted him she’d given first thought to his pleasure. She was returning the favor after his courtesy to her on the beach.

Humid Costa Rica had transitioned into dry volcanic heat as she took him to Hawaii next.

“I thought you might like to get dry,” she’d teased as they stood on the slope of Kilauea and allowed waves of heat to flow over them.

“I’d like to get dressed,” he’d responded stiffly.

She’d taken him to a tropical paradise instead, but the romance of moonlight on lush flowering vegetation was lost on Hal. He couldn’t help wondering what kinds of noxious creatures lurked in the shadows.

“There could be mosquitoes as big as dinner plates, and I’ve not even a fig leaf with which to protect myself,” he’d grumbled. “My privates are far too easy to reach.”

She’d leered at him and cupped his balls in her hand. “I like having your privates easy to reach.”

He’d pushed her away and placed both hands firmly over his privates. “No more sex until you provide me with clothes,” he’d declared.

As he’d surveyed the sartorial offerings of the ramshackle surf shop in which she’d deposited them, Hal decided that next time she took him on a naked excursion he’d specify ‘suitable’ clothes. He’d settled on black and white surfer shorts with an incongruous skull-and-hibiscus pattern, a baggy yellow t-shirt because apparently beach bums didn’t want their clothes to fit or coordinate, and—god help him—flip flops.

He’d pulled a floral sundress off a hanger and tossed it at her. She’d put it on with a sigh and a shake of her head.

“What, no undies?” she’d asked sarcastically.

“I doubt they’d last long,” he’d replied dryly. “Besides, I like having your privates easy to reach.”

“That’s the spirit!” She’d laughed and grabbed him for a kiss.

Hal hadn’t been ready to give in and play nice just yet, however. His frustration and vulnerability had boiled up into anger he couldn’t control. He wasn’t a fucking poodle on a leash or a doll for her to dress and undress as she chose! He’d spun her around and bent her over a table of garish beach towels, with his hand tearing through her hair to seize the back of her neck. Old habits, muscle memory, took over and he’d thrust into her quickly, before she could protest.

“Is this what you want?” he’d bitten out the words between nearly-gritted teeth.

“I’ll take it,” she’d gasped. “Your turn. Payback.”

He hadn’t thought too carefully about the sudden erection that practically leaped from his shorts of its own accord at the idea of taking her that way. He hadn’t asked the meaning of her tension as she caught herself and braced against his entry. He hadn’t noticed the not-as-wet-as-usual environment in which he’d found himself. Of course he hadn’t.

He’d driven into her, one hand clutching her neck and shoulder and one bruising her hip. She’d steadied herself and accepted him; shifted position until she’d found a way to enjoy it.

She’d climaxed somehow, although he’d done nothing to encourage it. Her release had extended through her body and left her limply sprawled across the towels as he’d finished with her. It had resembled submission and his raging lust had spiked—until he’d come. He’d pulled out with a sob and turned away, sickened by what he’d done. He’d wanted to blame Lord Henry, but the villain was nowhere in sight.

He’d slumped to the floor and waited for her to speak. Could he find his way home from Hawaii?

“Caught me off guard,” she’d said as she’d begun to stir. “That’s all right. I like a bit of bad.” She’d stood up and caught a cascade of towels that tried to slide onto the floor.

“Sweet fuck, that was good though. Damn good!” She’d smiled at him. Smiled, after he’d assaulted her.

“I’m sorry,” he’d said. “I can’t do this. Let’s just go home.”

“Can’t do what? Have sex? Lose your temper? Get sick of being drug around the world with no say in what happens to you? C’mon, I pulled a power play on you and you let me know you don’t appreciate it. We’re even. No harm, no foul. This was a whim, possibly a bad one, but let’s see it through. Together.”

She’d reached out a hand and pulled him up from the floor. “What d’you say?”

He’d stood in front of her but couldn’t look her in the face. Instead he watched his finger marks fade from the skin of her neck. He’d leaned in and kissed the places where he’d bruised her. She’d raised a hand and caressed the side of his face. He’d pressed his lips into her palm, a supplicant’s kiss.

“Take us someplace secluded,” he’d murmured.

New Zealand. Plenty of secluded places in New Zealand, but not necessarily warm places. She’d quickly moved them to Indonesia and the overgrown ruins of a small temple.

“Hindu? Buddhist?” he’d asked.

“Mine,” she’d replied.

He’d worshipped her there. Covered her body with kisses and caresses, let her linger in the pleasure he’d offered with his mouth and hands. Avoided the penetration he’d used against her. Tasted her desire and her release, and given his own tired body a chance to rest. She’d rested with him, after he’d declined her offer of fellatio. It had taken him nearly an hour to decide that it might be okay to accept that offer, but only if she would stop before he came. He’d wanted to redeem himself and his degenerate dick by making love to her gently, but thought he needed a boost to get started. She’d been happy to give him the chance.

Next stop—Kerala, India. A coconut oil refinery? She’d brought them to ground just outside.

“This won’t do,” she’d said. “Hang on.”

Another stop, this time in a packaging plant. She’d snagged a bottle of virgin, cold-pressed coconut oil off a shelf with a grin.

“Hair care?” Hal had asked the question, bemused by her sudden venture from isolated spots into an industrial site.

“Sex lube,” she’d replied. “I’m serious about going around the world. Now, where would you like to spend a little time with your Pet?”

Hal hadn’t liked the idea of bringing Pet outside the house, but he’d realized that arguing with her would be pointless. 

 “Somewhere private. Beyond private. No chance of being discovered. A cave?”

“I can do that,” she’d said.

In a moment they’d been in a cave. A very dark cave. Hal hadn’t thought about a light source, but apparently nothing fazed this woman when there was a plan to carry out.  She’d pulled off her dress and turned up her internal thermostat until flames began to ripple through her hair. In the warm flickering light she’d created, Hal had watched her tear strips from the hem of her dress, braid them, and lay the braid in an indentation in the rock. She’d put some coconut oil into the indentation and patted it into place.

“We’ll need a match,” she’d said. “Use a strip of my dress.”

He’d obediently torn a strip from her dress, tied a knot in one end, and lowered it into her hair. It flared immediately and he dropped it onto her makeshift wick. In short order they’d made a sweet-scented candle. 

“Where are we?” he’d asked as they worked.

“Gabon. Central Africa.”

“Yes, I remember. On the Atlantic coast. I was here once, while it was still a French colony. Why did you pick Gabon?”

Pet had answered him. “Lots of undiscovered caves.”

They’d forgotten about chasing the moon after that.  Gabon had been their last port of call.

Hal vaguely remembered returning to his room in their suite, stumbling onto the bed and passing out. He raised his head to look at himself. He was wearing the now-filthy yellow shirt and grimy surfer shorts. He lifted first one foot, then the other. A lone flip flop came into view. He kicked it distastefully across the room.

He fought his way to a sitting position. The scent of coconut wafted around him, mixed with the smells of ground-in dirt, vegetation, and sex. They’d made good use of the coconut oil in the cave of Gabon. Hal pulled the shirt over his head and threw it into the bin next to his bed. The shorts followed after he’d forced himself to stand. He’d get the wretched flip flop after his shower. He dropped back onto the bed, put his head in his hands, and groaned again.

Lena entered the bedroom with two cups of tea and handed him one as she gave him the once-over.

“Been a while since you’ve had a hangover, huh?” she asked with a smirk.

“Hangover? We barely stopped for water, let alone alcohol. I may be dehydrated.”

“Sex hangover. Too much fun in too little time. I’ll leave you alone so you can clean up.”

She left and Hal sat on the side of the bed and finished his tea. Sex hangover. He’d never heard of it but he bet he could list the symptoms. Headache, assorted body aches, unsteady on his feet, cotton mouth, mildly uncomfortable genitals, and an empty stomach. Irregular heartbeat when he had the nerve to remember what they’d actually done during their extended night; shallow pride at his own endurance; vague notions of doing it again someday. Minus the assault—that went without saying.

A hot shower, a good meal, and a nap, and he’d be right as rain. He hoped.

His hot shower was uninterrupted, and a good meal was waiting when he sauntered from his room, the epitome of cool with no uncomfortable twinges remaining from last night’s activities. Nearly no twinges. They were minor and disappearing quickly.

They were a few minutes into the meal before Hal noticed a business card for the surf shop sitting near Lena’s place at the table. He looked at it pointedly, then at her with the question on his face.

“I sent it here while you were clothes shopping,” she said. “I couldn’t think of a better way to make sure we paid for what we took. I’ve had a suitable amount wired to the store, enough to cover our clothes and any mess we left behind.”

Hal set down his fork and closed his eyes, withdrawing into himself as was his habit. He spoke without opening them, his words weaving softly past his frown and the pain on his face.

“I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am…”

“Are you Catholic?” she interrupted. “Because you sure have a thing for self-flagellation.”

He opened his eyes and sighed. “I’m trying to apologize for my appalling behaviour.”

“Don’t. I’m tired of your apologies. Save them for the big things.” She continued calmly with her meal.

“Big things! Christ, woman, I forced myself on you! I’m a vicious brute!” He stared at her. How can she just sit there as if he hadn’t abused her when clearly he had? He’d seen the marks of his trespass on her skin.

She reached across the table and he extended a hand to hers without thinking. Reflex.

She smiled. “I know what you are, Hal. I like what you are. You excite me. The danger in you, your power, your stamina…” she flicked her eyebrows at him. “Stop being sorry for what you are. Relax and enjoy yourself. Let me enjoy you.”

“How can you enjoy…that?”

“Because I deserved it,” Lena said with a casual shrug. He shook his head, refusing to accept her answer.

She sat back in her chair and glared at him. “Damn it, Hal! I took you, without your consent, from this room and dropped you naked on a beach in Italy. When you made it clear that you wanted to return here I took you to Costa Rica instead. Then to Hawaii. I ignored your concerns about being clothed, and when you finally convinced me to listen to you I took you to the tackiest surf shop I could find. It was spite, Hal, pure spite on my part. I could just as easily have found a classy menswear store. I wanted to see you in horrible clothes.”

“Why?” His question stopped her.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “I just—I just wanted to play with you, but you didn’t want to play along. It made me mad, I guess. You were being a spoilsport.”

“It didn’t feel like a game to me,” Hal said quietly. “It felt like a battle, and you had all the weapons.”

“I know,” Lena said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize what it was like for you until you nailed me on the towel display. Then I figured it out right quick. Took about two seconds to see what I’d done. I misused my power and disrespected you. You felt helpless to stop what I was doing. You got angry. You reacted in the most natural way you know. I was poking at you like a child with a stick pokes at a dog on a chain. I deserved to be bitten. So I took it. And I was able to enjoy it.” 

“And if you hadn’t enjoyed it?”

“That’s highly unlikely. I love your dick.” She grinned.

“My dick loves you, and is glad that you are able to tolerate the rest of me,” he replied. “Although I don’t see how you can,” he added sadly.

“Lima beans.” She nodded as she spoke. “Lima beans. And coconut cream pie for dessert.” She gave him a conspirator’s broad wink and he couldn’t help smiling. Thanks to their world tour they’d found another dish for their private menu, another way to say ‘I love you.’

 


	6. Meltdown

Dinner was over and tomorrow they would fly to Brazil. They needed an early night, even more than they had the previous night, so Lena promised no surprises. Hal should have promised the same. They were snuggled together on the sofa listening to music when he brought up the subject of his perceived assault again. It still bothered him.

“I shouldn’t have given him free rein.”

Lena was about half asleep, relaxing into Bach’s Brandenburg concertos. They were supposed to be resting before their early start tomorrow. She wasn’t in the mood for intellectual discussion and guilt, and she damn sure wasn’t in the mood for Lord Henry.

“Shut up,” she said quietly.

“I should have realized that once released he would have wanted to stay.”

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me over the sound of your brain ruining our quiet time,” she said. “Shut. Up.”

“He threatened you. He triggered the vampire.”

“Please Hal. Just shut up.” She kissed his cheek to mitigate her words. He was quiet for a few moments, but she could tell by the absent way he rubbed his hand up and down her arm that he was still thinking.

“You don’t understand what he can do.”

 “Fine. I’d hoped to save this conversation for later, but since you insist on doing it now, let’s just get on with it,” Lena said. She sat up, looked him directly in the eyes, and continued; her voice was composed and dispassionate.

“To use modern parlance, you are a prodigious sexual predator. You’ve ruined thousands of women, not to mention men and children. Because of the amount of time you’ve been in existence you’ve had centuries to practice your particular avocation, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that you are the most proficient sexual predator in history. Even factoring in your good cycles, I’d lay odds on you holding the record.”

Hal sat frozen, barely breathing, as she offered her quiet assessment. His hands trembled. He hadn’t expected this, couldn’t hear it, not from her. She knew too much about evil in the world; if she said he was the worst, it must be true.

 He dropped his eyes but denied his urge to flee. Instead he locked himself in place and waited for her condemnation. He deserved it. He would let her speak it.

“Violence is deeply ingrained in you. It is reflexive, your first response to stimuli. Yes, the vampire intensifies it but it’s in **you** , not just in the curse.  You have trained yourself in brutality through centuries of practice, and it is your native language now.”

She gave him a moment to accept what she’d said. He swallowed, blinked rapidly. Was he holding back tears? Had she hurt him that much? Surely he knew this about himself.

“Yes,” he said softly. “Violence has become my native language. I learned it as a child, even as I was learning to speak. At some points in my life it has been my first language. I have been bilingual, in that sense, throughout my life.”

“Here’s what you don’t get, Hal. It’s a language that I speak fluently as well.”

He lifted his head and looked her in the face again. There was no censure in her eyes, just as there had been none in her voice. He tried to put the pieces together. He already had a sense that she was reconciled to his violent nature and at times used it for her own enjoyment. What more was she saying?

“You like a bit of bad,” he said.

“I do.”

“But not like that, not without your consent,” he argued.

“Generally speaking, that’s true,” she agreed, “but here’s the thing. You can’t actually force yourself on me because I can stop you whenever I want. With me you have something you’ve never had in a lover—the luxury of brutality without guilt. You’ll kill yourself before you damage me.”

“I shouldn’t treat you like that just because I can.”

“I’ll let you know when I’ve had enough.”

“No. It isn’t fair to you. If you could reciprocate, maybe. But you can’t hurt me. You don’t dare, the punishment is too great.” His eyes widened as the thought occurred to him. “That’s why you didn’t stop me. You were afraid you’d injure me.”

“I didn’t stop you because I was enjoying the activity,” she said. “Don’t you get it? We are both modifying our behavior for the sake of our safety. Of course we are—that’s what lovers do. Here’s another thing lovers do. They accept each other as they are. I accept you, Hal.”

She settled back against him and let the music soak into her. His arms around her, his heartbeat in her ear—these were the things she cherished.

They were quiet as he thought through what she’d said. Something in it felt wrong to him.

“Your analogy is faulty,” he said. “You can be fluent in a language, which is a good thing. You can use the language when called upon to do so, which is also a good thing. Using it without cause, inflicting it on others for the sake of their discomfort and your pleasure isn’t a good thing.”

“Jesus, Hal! Let it go.”

“You are fluent in the language of violence but you don’t use it without cause. You don’t use it against the innocent. You don’t use it for fun at the expense of others. Your analogy is faulty.”

“No, my analogy is correct. Your recollection of what I said is faulty. I didn’t claim to have the same relationship with violence as you. I said that I’m very familiar with it. Comfortable with it. Now please, let it go.”

“You have to leave him alone, Lena. Don’t encourage him.”

 “Your Lord Henry wasn’t in the surf shop.” She knew it was a mistake as soon as she said it. Hal was immediately defensive.

“No, but he was on the beach, and he brings that part of me closer to the surface. He had too much freedom yesterday.”

She was way beyond finished with this conversation. “I’m sick of you blaming everything on Lord Henry. Why do you need a scapegoat? Just accept who you are and be done with it!”

**_“I can’t!”_ **

Hal’s vehemence startled her upright. He slammed his hands into the sofa and pushed himself up, turned to face her and stared her down. His fists clenched and unclenched; his jaw twitched as he fought to hold back the hurtful words he wanted to launch at her. Finally he spoke.

“The minute, the very second, I admit that I’m the monster, that I’m the only one responsible for the horror of my existence, I will **kill** myself. It is too much to bear. It can’t be me. Don’t you understand? **It can’t**.”

He turned from her, stalked to his room, and closed the door against her.

_I’m a fucking moron._

Lena sat stunned into silence as she watched Hal escape her company. She stared as his closed door, struggling to process what he’d said. She dropped back against the sofa cushions as she realized what she’d done.

_I’m a motherfucking moron._

Her self-assessment was blunt but astute. She slapped a hand over her eyes—unconsciously acknowledging her own blindness. She had scoffed at the notion that Hal could truly have a mental disorder, even as she witnessed it. Now her disbelief had come back to bite her in the ass—hard.

All of her talk about lovers accepting each other for who they were, and here she was. Didn’t mean a word of it. Refusing to accept Lord Henry—refusing to even allow for the possibility that he was a valid part of Hal’s being. Demanding that Hal become the man she wanted him to be. Worse, the monster she thought he already was.

And he freaked right out, because he needed Lord Henry. He needed to separate himself from the things he’d done and the dark desires he felt. Most of all, he needed to hold himself apart from the vampire’s depraved indifference to humanity and from his alter ego’s encouragement of that depravity.

Instead of helping him protect himself from the darkness, she’d looked him in the eye and told him it was all him. Called the man she loved a world-class villain, when all she wanted was for him to relax and stop apologizing every time he breathed on her wrong.

She just wanted him to be Henry.

Memories of her Henry overwhelmed her mind and her senses. Not when they’d first met, but later, when he’d come to trust that she loved him. His ready smile and rich laugh. The way he pulled her onto his lap so they could share a bowl and cup at the table. His confidence as he caught her in a hug or grabbed her around the waist and tossed her onto their bed. The way he smelled after a few days without a bath—musky, salty, earthy man-smell that she wanted to lick from his skin and savor. The lilt in his voice and the light in his eyes when he talked about them, together.

She slapped her hands over her mouth to muffle her sobs. “Oh god! I want him back!”

She didn’t want this apologetic, guilt-ridden creature with bloody hands and murderous heart. She wanted the boy with sunshine in his eyes and the future in his smile. She doubled over with pain as her loss tore through her gut. There wasn’t a do-over in the world big enough to fix her grief.

As she rocked and sobbed, Lena’s brain finally emptied of thought. She went elsewhere, into a blackness that sheltered her from the trauma of her memories and regrets. She lost her mind for a little while, and it was a welcome loss. She could rest in the vacuum through which she fell.

And yet, she clung to a single word, a necessary word, a word that would keep her from leaving her mind for good. A word that could bring her back to the world when she was ready.

_Hal_

It flitted, a will-o-the-wisp, through the void.

_Hal_

It soothed the fraying edges of her consciousness.

_Hal_

With knife-edged clarity it brought emotions not her own into the emptiness.

_Hal_

A young man destroyed by his lover’s betrayal. Plodding with hunched shoulders and bowed head. Shamed, defeated, abandoned.

_Oh god._ _Hal._ _What have I done to Hal?_

For the first time Lena saw the end of their long-ago love from his point of view. She had been devastated by his abandonment. He had been shattered by hers. His loss had been greater. It had killed the boy with the future in his smile.

This wasn't memory; it was emotional truth, straight from him to her, a cry for help from the piece of her soul that lived inside him. If Hal was feeling like that again, now, what did that say about her? How badly had she hurt him?

Lena sat up with a gasp. Bach still played from the sound system. She ran to the sink and washed the tears from her hands and face. She didn’t look in the mirror—no need to confirm that she was a wreck.

She went to his door, leaned against it and listened. Sit-ups. She could tell by the time between numbers and the subtle sound of movement in his voice as he counted.

“…76….77….78..”

She knocked quietly.

“..79….80..”

She knocked again.

“..81….82..”

“Hal?”

“..83..”

“Hal, may I come in?”

“..84….85..”

She swallowed the sob that choked her. “Hal? Please?”

“..86….87….88..”

She slid to the floor and huddled with her back pressed against his door. Grief made her thoughtless as she listened to sound of him denying her.

“..93….94....95..”

_I don’t want the boy._

“..96..”

_He’s only human._

“..97..”

_I want forever._

“..98..”

_I want Hal._

“..99..”

_I want Hal._

“..100..”

_I need Hal._

“..101..”

_I’m a fool._

“..102..”

_Fool._

“..103..”

_Fool._

The door flew open and she fell backwards, barely catching herself on her elbows before her head hit the floor. She looked up at his scowl.

“Please cease your infernal knocking,” he snapped as he walked away.

He returned to his spot on the far side of the bed and resumed his sit-ups. She tilted her head back and watched him go, upside down. He was shirtless, pink from exertion, and sweaty. Well, damn. What was she supposed to be doing?

“..104..”

His head appeared at the foot of the bed as he lowered himself.

“I wasn’t knocking,” she said.

“..105..”

“I must have been beating my head against the door.”

“..106..Why?..107..”

She spoke to the head as it appeared again. “Trying to knock some sense into myself.”

The head disappeared. She heard the ‘hmph’ before the next count.

“..108..Did it work?..109..”

She sighed. “Probably not. I’m an idiot.”

“..110..”

She turned onto her stomach and watched him, right-side-up. Bach laced around his count as he continued, sometimes in time with him and sometimes in opposition. Eventually she worked up the courage to ask him again.

“May I come in?”

“....150.”

He got to his feet and stretched, turned, and leaned forward, dropping lightly onto his hands. Pressups. His strength and grace thrilled her every time.

“Fine.” He glanced across the floor at her before beginning.

“1…2…3…”

She watched his head move smoothly up and down, watched the muscles of his arms and shoulders flex as she crawled across the floor and around the bed. He ignored her. She stretched out on her back, parallel to him, with her head near his but far enough away not to interfere.

“…15…16…”

“Hi.”

“17…”

“I’m your mental health counselor.”

He snorted.

“18…19..”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He glanced at her.

“..20..”

“Really, really sorry.”

“21…22…”

“You’re not a monster.”

“..23…”

“You would never—“

“..24…”

“—do those things—“

“..25…”

“—on your own.”

“..26…”

“It’s the vampire.”

“..27…”

“Not you.”

“..28…”

“I won’t question—“

“..29..”

“—Lord Henry’s place—“

 “..30..”

“—again.”

He stopped at the top of a pressup and looked down at her. For a long moment they were still.

“Promise.” She nodded to emphasize that she was serious. He nodded to accept her promise.

He continued. She closed her eyes and spoke from her heart, softly, keeping time with him.

“I miss my Henry. He didn't carry the burden that weighs you down. He laughed freely. He held me without fear of what he might do to me. He played with me. He fought with me. Without remorse. Without worry about what the next minute might bring.”

She heard his quiet count continue, felt the movement of his body alongside hers. She believed he was listening to her as well.

“I grieve for you, and for me. I mourn the loss of us. What we were. I’m glad you are what you are, Hal. It means we have forever. But oh! How I wish our forever didn't come at such a steep cost.” A sob slipped out. She dared not speak any more.

He stilled, mid-lift. Faltered.

“As do I.”

He lowered himself to the floor, count forgotten.

“I would do it all again, to reach you,” he said quietly, speaking to the floor in front of him. Not ready for their eyes to reconnect them. “I would wade through rivers of blood, slaughter thousands of innocents, to have you with me. Me, not the vampire. I suppose I am a monster.”

She watched his profile as she replied. “No more monster than I am,” she said. “Now that I've found you again—if you were taken from me—I hate to think of what I’d do. Level mountains. Empty seas. Kingdoms would fall.”

He sighed, sat up, and leaned against the side of his bed.

“The guilt I carry for what I've done is hard enough to bear,” he said, “but the cost of our forever, for me, is that you know my history, know what I am and what I’m capable of. And you think less of me for it.”

She started to protest, but he held up a hand with a sad smile.

“It is to be expected,” he said. “It still stings. Even so.”

He frowned thoughtfully as he continued. “If the devil came to me today and offered me a human lifetime with you as the young man I was, or this life, and the chance at forever with you as the creature that I am, I would choose this. I will always choose this. Not because I will have longer to spend with you, but because I can truly know you. No disguise. The privilege of knowing your true self is worth any cost.”

“You value me too highly,” she said.

“That isn't possible.”

She wiped the tears from her face as she sat up. “Stupid leaky eyes,” she muttered.

He smiled and opened his arms to her. She was with him in a moment, his arms around her as he pulled her into his lap. He kissed her stupid leaky eyes.

“Do you really miss him that much?” he murmured as he nuzzled alongside her ear.

“I miss his happiness. His carefree attitude. I wish I could give it back to you.”

“The partner of such a formidable being as yourself should have a certain gravitas, don’t you think?” He was teasing her; she could hear it in his voice.

“Have you met me? Gravitas is hardly my style.”

“Carefree is no longer my style. I’m an old man, you know.” His gently mocking tone lightened her heart.

“Perhaps it is time for you to enter your second childhood,” she said. “They make very fashionable adult diapers nowadays.”

He swatted her backside. “Mind your manners.”

“Yes, grandpa,” she teased.

He swatted her backside again. She jumped in feigned outrage, then snuggled in more thoroughly. He held her and placed gentle kisses on her temple.

“Remember the day we stole bublik* from the kitchen?” he said. “Six of them, strung on a loop of twine. Cook’s special recipe, with fruit cooked inside.”

“Mmm, she made the best bublik,” Lena agreed. “Especially with butter.”

“No butter this time,” Hal said. “She caught us leaving and chased after us. We had to leg it.”

“We did.”

“We climbed our favourite tree and you hung them over a high branch. I couldn't go as high, I weighed too much. You said I had to wrestle you for them.”

“Did I?”

“You know you did.” He smiled and hugged her tight against him. “Christ, you put up a fight. Tore my shirt, bloodied my nose. Cracked my kneecap. I limped for a week.”

“You limped for a day.”

“It felt like a week. It took everything I had to pin you. You let me, didn’t you? You minx.”

“I liked it when you pinned me, but I wasn't going to make it easy on you.”

“I ripped your sleeve. Bruised both your wrists.”

“And my ribs.”

“And your ribs. I’d forgotten. Split your lip with an errant elbow. You spit blood and laughed.”

“You said my teeth bruised your poor elbow. Blamed me for it.”

“You promised to bring down the bublik and share if I let you go. You climbed up to get them all right, then jumped down and tried to run off with them all. I had to chase you.”

“When you caught me you took a switch to me.”

“I was playing. It wasn't meant to hurt.”

“It didn't hurt.”

“We could never play like that now that I know your secret.” He whispered in her ear, “I only win if you let me.” He pulled back. “Knowing the truth ruins the game. Besides, we must be careful of your blood.”

“Not as careful as we used to be. It doesn't bother you as much now, to have a bit of my blood in the air. I noticed when I scraped my shin.”

“True, I no longer go mad from just the scent or sight of a small injury. I suppose the Force protects me, somehow. And there is the matter of my frequent exposure to another of your bodily fluids. Perhaps I’m building up an immunity.” He leered at her. She rolled her eyes.

Lena believed that when they drove the vampire curse to ground they had also weakened the effect her blood had on Hal. She just didn't think that was the only thing protecting him. _My heart in your chest,_ she thought, _and with it, a bit of my blood, working as a vaccine._ She hadn't told him all the details from that day in the kitchen, when she’d given him her heart and died in his place. She didn't understand what it all meant or how it had worked, she was just thankful that it had.

Hal continued, unaware of her thoughts. “I still crave your blood above all others. It smelled—heavenly. That’s why I left the area, just to be safe.”

“You must never give in to it, Hal. You must never taste it. It is too great a risk.” She was suddenly serious.

“I agree. Too great a risk in many ways. So, we must stay away from games that include much blood-letting.”

“We can make new games. How about treasure hunt? We can try it tomorrow,” she said with a sly smile.

“I like that idea very much,” he replied.

He caught the side her head in his hand, caressing her cheekbone with his thumb. She closed her eyes and smiled at his tender touch. He kissed her, brushing her lips with his before sucking her upper lip gently.

“If you tell me again how very sorry you are for offending me, I may allow you into my bed tonight,” he whispered in her ear. 

He kissed across her cheek, drawing the salt of her drying tears into his mouth. A new tear slid along his upper lip. She opened her eyes and he fell into dark wells of sorrow and shame.

“Never mind,” he murmured. “I know.”

“Don’t let me off so easily,” she said. “I’m ashamed of myself. For the way I behaved and the cruel things I said. You deserve better.”

“I deserve your contempt. I know what I am.”

“That kind of comment is exactly what got me started in the first place. Why do you say these things about yourself? It hurts me to hear them.” She took his hand in hers and kissed it. “This is why I miss Henry.”

“I felt the same about myself when I was human,” Hal said quietly. “I've never believed that I was worthy of your affection.”

She sat stiffly upright in protest. “You didn't say!”

“Your memory is faulty. You wouldn't let me say. You had the bothersome habit of interrupting me when I broached the subject.” He pulled her back to him and tucked her head into the curve of his neck and shoulder, where he liked it best. Her warm breath and the occasional tickle of her hair against his skin held a gentle intimacy that he cherished.

“I did say,” he chastised her softly. “In the beginning, before I learned that you didn't want to hear it.”

“I thought I’d changed your mind.”

“No, my lady, you merely shut me up.”

“Remind me how I did that? My current technique isn't working.”

She began kissing along his collarbone, lured by his bare skin. She dipped into the hollow between muscle and bone and found traces of perspiration left from his workout.

She sucked his skin to catch the taste. “Mmm, man-sweat.”

“Is it?” He couldn't help checking. They heard his worry in the tiny hesitation before he spoke, the overly-casual tone of voice.

“Oh, yeah,” she replied happily. “Five hundred years gone and still fresh as a daisy, so to speak. I love your man-sweat.”

She kissed the base of his throat, open-mouthed, searching for more sweat to savor. She told him the truth and meant every word. But she didn't tell Hal the entire truth—that he carried death with him now.

Somewhere between taste and smell the marker lingered, beyond his distinctive human maleness, tickling the back of her throat. The same marker that signaled to him the presence of another vampire--the species identifier that they recognized in each other--lurked in his sweat, semen, saliva, and blood. It reminded her that a wild and dangerous thing lived in him. Sometimes when they kissed her canines ached with the call to join his wildness.

“I need to shower again,” Hal said. He tried to gently move her off his lap, but she put her arms around him and refused to go.

“I really do need to shower,” he said.

Lena protested by holding on tighter.

He sighed. “It seems I have acquired a burr,” he teased.

“Leech,” she replied.

She stuck her nose in his armpit and inhaled, then burrowed in so she could kiss his underarm.

“Tickles,” he reminded her as he obliged her by lifting his arm. He rested it along the edge of his bed with an indulgent smile. She had some very entertaining peccadilloes.

“Dirty girl,” he said fondly.

“Dirty boy,” she replied happily.

She kissed his soft underarm skin and rooted through his armpit hair, but found a disappointing lack of sweat.

“Damn modern antiperspirant,” she sighed as she raised her face to his. “No man-sweat. No man-smell for me either.”

He brushed a flake of antiperspirant off her nose. “You should be thankful,” he said.

She grinned slyly. “I’ll bet I know where I can find a few sweaty bits.”

Her hand touched his stomach as she sought the button and zip of his trousers. He caught his breath; she felt him jerk and she stopped moving. Had she done something wrong?

Small frown lines appeared between her brows as she searched his face for signs of protest.

“May I?” she asked softly.

He nodded. His heart was already beating faster at the thought of what she might have in mind.

She undid his trousers and moved off his lap so she could ease his clothes down and off. She began at his navel and kissed her way down his body, tickling her nose in his hair as she breathed him in. Pushing aside his growing erection to follow the trail down, she moved into his pubic curls. Her mouth sought his taste and texture as she drew in his man-smell, sweat and sex with a hint of soap and a prickle of danger. She carefully spread his leg to expose the moist crease of hip and abdomen and ran her tongue along it.

“Dirty girl,” he murmured. There was worship in his tone.

“Dirty boy,” she replied. “Tasty, dirty boy.”

She spread his other leg and cleaned the sweat from his skin, leaving traces of her saliva. She flicked her tongue along the tender ridge under his scrotum and he flinched.

Fireworks in his gut! He was getting shaky. His bollocks jumped as she mouthed them each in turn. She pressed a kiss against the base of his cock and wound her way around it. Wet. Warm. More fireworks, and he gripped his bedding to keep his hands off her—to keep from forcing her superb mouth onto his cock.

“Mmm, man-flesh,” she whispered. She licked up the length of his erection.

“You sound like an ogre,” he said, his voice almost even.

“Most of them are vegetarians,” she said. “I’ll introduce you to one someday.”

She hovered over him as she spoke. Her breath teased him. He lifted himself and brushed the tip of his cock against her lips.

“Suck me, dirty girl.” More request than command. He managed not to beg.

Her mouth slid over his cock, lips tight around him, tongue caressing…she sucked. He gasped.

“More.” Still not begging.

She continued. He couldn't think. He could barely speak.

“Suck me dry, dirty girl.”

She grinned and nodded—followed instructions. Such a good, dirty girl.

She swallowed. Cleaned him off; sucked out every drop. Sat up and looked at him, pleased with herself and waiting for his approval. He languidly picked a stray hair from her cheek. One of his.

“Very good, dirty girl. Very good.”

“Does this mean you’ll let me in your bed, dirty boy?”

“Take off your clothes. If I like what I see, I’ll let you come to bed with me.”

 “Dirty rhymester,” she said with a smile. Hal had easily taken control of their playtime, but Lena didn't mind. She enjoyed it when he was in power, and she owed him a turn.

They had played this game before. She would present him with a sample of her previous lives and he would enjoy her presentation. Sometimes it was a chance for him to learn more about her history. He explored cultures by exploring the distinctively-decorated women she offered and by listening to their stories. Sometimes he would choose a sex partner from among them.

Tonight it was just a bit of fun. He might touch or taste a few of them, and he might choose one to sleep with, literally. He was too tired and too satisfied from their recent activities to want anything more. Their game was a pleasant distraction after a long day, a way to reconnect before moving into the unknowns of Brazil and Bolivia, of diamonds and revenge.

*bublik is a member of the bagel family, usually larger than a bagel and with a bigger center hole.


	7. Blue-Sky Thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another sex chapter with a twist. Because what fun is it without a twist now and then?

Lena spoke the language of violence fluently and could communicate with Hal in his native tongue. Lena’s native language was her sexuality. Sex was a language Hal spoke very clearly, but Lena didn’t just speak the language—sometimes she _was_ the language. Just as Hal, when the vampire consumed him and the darkest elements of his own nature rose in brutal triumph, could epitomize horror; so Lena, when the fire burned in her and made her forgetful of mortality, could epitomize lust.

She had seen him at his worst, but had shielded him from hers, until now. Their trip around the world had given Hal a glimpse of the ancient goddess that men worshiped and feared; his pride had been damaged, his weakness revealed.

What’s more, she had encouraged him to embrace the monstrous part of his nature. No man who wants to _be_ a man makes that choice.

A voice whispered deep in Lena’s core that she didn't want a man as her consort, she wanted a god. In spite of everything she knew to be right and true about Hal Yorke, a tiny part of her wanted the monster instead. She and that creature, together, would make the world tremble. She and that creature would bring humanity to its knees.

And so, for the sake of the soul they now shared, Lena silenced that voice and humbled herself. She became simply a dirty girl playing with a dirty boy—playing a game they both enjoyed.  

She got up and took off her clothes. Hal’s eyes consumed her every move; his nostrils flared as her scent sharpened in the open air. He motioned for her to turn around. She did so, slowly.

He lounged against the side of his bed, arms outstretched along it, lazy smile on his face as he studied her. A pasha choosing from his harem.

“Do you like what you see?” she asked.

His nod was noncommittal. She turned again, transforming into a delicate Oriental woman as she did.

“Do you like what you see?”

Another nod. Another motion to turn around.

A Kanuri* woman this time, with dark skin, rich curves and full breasts. One of his favorites. Hal beckoned her toward him, reached between her legs, and probed. He withdrew wet fingers and sucked them.

“Nice. Very nice,” he said, as if he was choosing a wine to go with his meal.

“Dirty boy,” she said lovingly.

“Let’s see another, dirty girl.”

Native American, Cheyenne, lithe and strong, with square jaw and almond eyes. Fierce and free.

“Too proud for this game,” he murmured. “Another one.”

She turned again. Slender, pale, with light brown hair and blue-sky eyes. He’d never seen this one.

Something in her slight form and budding curves appealed to him, although she looked too young for their game. He couldn’t imagine when Lena would have assumed this character. Typically her women were fully-formed adults, experienced and confident, able to command the world through which she moved. This girl must have an interesting story.

Hal beckoned her to him and held her slender hips as he positioned her with a foot on either side of his thighs. He brushed his fingers through the soft curls that barely covered her private area, then cupped his hand over her and moved forward between her thighs. She gasped slightly when he slipped his finger into her. He quickly understood why. She was unused. His breath caught, eyes widened.

His voice was ominous. “What are you doing, dirty girl?”

“Offering you a new game, dirty boy. Would you like to play?”

He sucked her taste from his finger. A new flavor for his connoisseur’s palate—bright, with the earthy coolness of a Northern spring. He very much wanted to play.

“You offer me a virgin? You know what I do to virgins.” He hands caressed along her slender body even as he warned her against him.

“This virgin is eager to accept your advances.”

“And the virgin’s blood?”

“A marginal amount. I can leave quickly if I need to.”

He wouldn’t risk it. She was too young for him, and too small to accept his advances comfortably, no matter what Lena said. Hal trusted his own experience more than he trusted her words.

But she was deliciously tempting and right there, waiting. He’d just have a taste and send her on her way. He cupped her tender backside and drew her to him until her knees were braced against the bed, her hands on his shoulders. He buried his face in her soft curls; they tickled his nose as he parted them expertly to find her sweet, untouched inner flesh. The heady fragrance and taste of her made him slightly giddy.  A lovely gift from his dirty girl.

He might have her after all, the slender virgin with blue-sky eyes. She was willing, and if he prepared her well enough she would be fine. This was Lena, no matter what shape she took, and she wouldn't bring him a woman who couldn't accommodate him.

Hal decided that he was no longer interested in just a taste; he wanted to ignite her passion and coax himself into readiness as well. He mouthed her clitoris and rolled his tongue over the small nub, feeling it stiffen under his touch. He dipped inside her and caught the taste of her arousal until the edges of her hymen blocked his tongue from going further. It didn't leave nearly enough room for what he intended, but surely when he was ready Lena would adjust to fit. For now his fingers would suffice to arouse her further.

As her pleasure grew she arched into his lips and rocked with his careful strokes inside her. She moaned and clutched his shoulders tightly; she became unsteady on her feet. Finally he braced his hands on her hips and pushed her back.

“No, dirty boy!” she protested.

“Kneel, dirty girl.”

She knelt over him, aching and empty. He saw the hunger in her eyes, read it in the soft sway of her hips as she moved unconsciously in rhythm with her memory of his touch. They were signals that she was ready for him, beckoning the erection that waited just out of reach beneath her.

He wasn't quite ready for her, however. His cock was hard again, but Hal knew himself well enough to know that it was reflex born of centuries of blood-driven violence. With the vampire in control he would tear through a dozen women before he came, fuck and drink and drain them dry. His stamina was part of his legend. The trick was that he didn’t need to be aroused by his victims; the blood turned him on, and sometimes he would run out of bodies before he bothered to come. His hard-on was a weapon, trained to be ready when called.

There was no vampire tonight, no bloodlust forcing him into action, just a tender, eager girl and a tired but willing cock that needed a minute or two.

“Kiss me, dirty girl,” he said.

Her hands moved from his shoulders to the sides of his face as she pressed her lips to his, a virgin’s earnest kiss. Lena was playing her part well. Hal moved his lips against hers, encouraging her to soften and open them. His tongue slid delicately along her lips and she opened them further, meeting him with the tip of her own tongue, hesitantly. He tutored her in a lover’s kiss and she followed his lead willingly. After a little while she pulled away, breathless and giggly.

“I like the way I taste in your mouth,” she said shyly, with a gentle blush coloring her pale skin.

“I do too,” he replied with an affectionate smile. “You’re doing very well, dirty girl.”

“Thank you, dirty boy. Can I kiss you some more?”

His smile stretched into a lopsided grin—it was all the ‘yes’ she needed. She attached herself to his mouth again, and again he led her into sensual caresses. He slid a hand between her legs and began to stroke her in teasing accompaniment to their deepening passion. With his other hand on her hip, he gently lowered her body until his erection met her warm, slick flesh. She moaned into his mouth as he teased her engorged clit; he kept his hands on her hips to hold her steady as he enticed and prepared her for his entry.

“You make this seem very real.” He offered her a compliment, but she frowned in response.

“It is real.”

He stilled them both and waited, questioning the truth of her statement. She whined in disappointment but he held her hips from moving, so she tried to explain.

“I've lived decades, entire adult lifetimes, in disguise. I learned long ago to set aside my own experiences in order to enjoy those lifetimes as they were given to me. And there are physical differences too. Just as each form looks and acts differently, feels, smells, even tastes different to you, so the world is different to me when I inhabit each form. Everything you’re doing is new to this girl.”

“How is that possible?”

“Because she is a virgin, untouched by anyone until you, just now. I feel everything for the first time in her body.” She nudged his erection and he pressed against her. He was almost ready to deflower his virgin.

She continued as she moved gently against him. “I’ve been many women in my long life, but I’ve just given up my virginity once. That was long ago, and I recall little beyond the pain. Hal, I've never been this girl before. I made her for you. I want you to be her first time, to give us a new memory to share.”

He was deeply moved, and stunned by her request. What had she said earlier? _The luxury of brutality without guilt._ He didn't want to be brutal with her, but he wasn't sure he could keep himself from it. How does one take a maidenhead without force?

“You will—adjust to fit,” he said.

She shook her head. “No. It would be meaningless to do so. You will take this body as it is.”

“This girl is too young and too small for what you suggest.”

“I know what I’m doing. She’s plenty ready for sex, Hal. She’ll be fine.”

“You do this, knowing how I treat the innocent?”

“I do this, knowing how you treat me.”  

Lena didn't tell him the rest of the reason for her offer—she refused to put it into words, even to herself, because it was completely against her nature. This girl was a sacrifice, her atonement for hurting him so badly. She expected Hal to injure her in return, and she was prepared to accept it. She gave him power over her, and permission, and a scenario in which he could do so without guilt.

He was silent for a moment as he tried to understand her request. Finally he surrendered to the lure of the body she’d offered him.

“Very well,” he said quietly, “I will do as you ask. But what should I call this girl?”

He addressed the slim young woman who waited on his lap. “You should have a name of your own.”

“Name me then.”

He looked into her trusting blue eyes. “Sky, for your eyes,” he said.

She smiled. “I like that.”

Now that Hal understood the true nature of Sky’s existence, he was determined to make love to her, not just to take her as Lena had suggested. He wanted Sky to experience more than just the pain of his entry. He would give her good memories as well.

He resumed his tutelage by bringing her breasts to his mouth, each in turn, and teasing each pale pink nipple into a tight point. He kissed around the soft, soft skin of her subtle curves, the first kisses on her fresh young body. A body made just for him—his mind reeled. His hands on her waist kept her steady as he leaned into her, arching her back and up so he could kiss down her torso, lingering and gentle. He found her navel and flicked it with his tongue.

“Tickles,” she giggled breathlessly.

He chuckled against her skin, moved up her body, visited each small-but-perfect breast in turn, and brought his kisses to her smooth shoulders and slender neck.

Finally, he lowered her onto his lap again. She returned to his erection and ground herself against it, more desperate for it now that he’d ignited her body with his touch. When he reached her lips with his, her kisses were aggressive, demanding. She was ready.

He was ready as well, but he hesitated. Lena had told him more than once that she liked a bit of bad, but this—giving him this sweet young girl to use—this was too much. What was she thinking? Hal, with his nightmare history of violent assault against the youngest and most innocent of victims—with his history of assault against her! She had to know what to expect, and still she’d made this body just for him, made this girl fresh, untouched by another’s hands. Or lips. Or—his gut caved in with anticipation. He couldn't wait any longer.

As Sky rested her hands on his shoulders and balanced on her knees, Hal gently positioned her on his erect and aching cock. She watched his face as he smiled and murmured his directions. He was encouraging, comforting, and he hoped she saw warmth in his eyes rather than the intensity of his desire for her. Hal was practiced at hiding his baser needs and it would go easier for Sky if she could relax.

“Shift a bit, there’s a good girl. So warm, so ready, yes? But...ah...good...we want it just so. Just right for your first time, sweet girl.”

He lowered her until he met the resistance of her hymen and stopped. The tip of his dick was covered in her juices and practically shouting at him, pulsing with the need to drive deep into her and give the rest of him the same pleasure. His muscles were tensed in anticipation of the exquisite heave upward. Christ, his hands were shaking, desperate to shove her down and hold her still so he could fuck her. He could hear her heart racing; her eyes were wide, wary. She expected him to force her open. Her first time.

_No._

Hal saw his gift in its entirety at last. This girl was a guilt offering created by Lena’s shame for having treated him badly in the past…had it only been a day and a half? So much had happened between them since she’d urged him to release Lord Henry into their world again, since she’d first told him that His Lordship was just his way of accepting his own lack of a conscience. She’d used him, disrespected him, and offended him beyond reason since then.

Lena was sorry, and Sky was supposed to pay her debt, a willing participant in what she knew would be a painful experience. It was deeply wrong of Lena to offer a virgin sacrifice to the man she’d called the most prodigious sexual predator in history. He didn’t want them to share the memory of what he’d do to her.

But Sky could be more, so much more. She could be his redemption, his chance to replace a thousand ruined bodies with one treasured girl. A new memory for him—the memory of his care for her, his blue-sky girl.

Hal stretched his arms along the edge of the bed.

“You are in control now,” he said.

“You’re not going to…?”

“No. I won’t risk hurting you.”

“Oh. I saw this going differently,” she said. “Isn’t it supposed to be a masterful thrust and a whimper?”

He smiled. “My thrust may be a bit too masterful, and I’d rather not cause you to whimper. Except with pleasure, of course.”

“Oh.” There so much in her tone: awe, thankfulness, recognition of his choice on her behalf. Her frame softened as her tension left.

“Okay, well, hmm. Here goes.”

She pressed herself down carefully and felt her hymen stretch around his erection.

“Oh my. You really are…big. I didn't realize.” Sky gave Hal a slightly worried look. He managed to appear calm and unaffected. Not at all like a soulless predator who wanted to throw her onto her back and tear her wide open. Fuck! Even a predator with a soul would be sorely tempted.

“You’re doing fine. Take your time.” He didn't mean a word of it, but her grateful smile made him glad he’d made the offer anyway.

She moved up slightly, moved down a bit further. Breathed. Tried to relax.

“I didn't think this through very well,” Sky admitted. “I may be a bit young for this after all.”

“Another whim?”

She nodded. “I wanted a girl who’d never been touched. I guess in my head the touching starts pretty early. You don’t mind, do you?”

“There’s no good answer to that question, Sky.”

“Well,” she said demurely, “let’s put it this way. I don’t mind if you don’t.”

She breathed and closed her eyes. Up stroke, down stroke. Up stroke, down stroke. Slight advances. Sky felt the tension in Hal’s shoulders and opened her eyes. He clutched the bedding. His jaw clenched and unclenched with her movements.

“I should just change back to myself,” she said.

“No.” He shook his head fiercely. “No. This is important to me.”

“Okay.” Her blue-sky eyes softened. “Thank you.”     

Up stroke, down stroke. Up stroke, down stroke. Slight advances. It took every bit of his willpower to keep still, to keep from thrusting up into her and finishing it, once and for all. Violence, his native language, screamed at him to just _**take her**_. Another voice, sly and smooth, whispered that it would be fine, she’d forgive him and he could make her forget the pain soon enough.

“Can you—can you move with me?” she asked. “A little? Push up a little, apply some pressure?”

Hal swallowed and nodded. “Of course,” he said lightly. Because pushing up into her tight hot wet body, _**just a little**_ , was exactly what he wanted. My god, this was penance. It had to be.

They moved in a careful choreography of desire and concern. No pain. He’d prove it, even if it killed him. The first vampire to die of a heart attack, or blood loss caused by an exploding cock.

“Wait,” she said.

He froze. FUCK! Now what?

“Right,” she said. She was talking to herself. Making up her mind.

She dropped. Settled. Pressed herself as far down as she could. He pushed up, just a little. It was all he needed to do.

They breathed mutual sighs of relief, then smiled at their unconscious unification of thought.

“Well, that took long enough,” Sky said. She put her arms around his neck. “You feel wonderful, like you’re supposed to be there. So big. I feel my insides shifting into place around you.” She carefully lifted and resettled. “Wonderful! I don’t want to stop.”

“Then don’t.”

His hands around her waist lifted her and urged her to move again. She followed his lead, making another careful stroke.

“It doesn't hurt at all.” She smiled, moved, experimenting.

“But you expected it to.”

“Based on my own experience, yes. I expected it to hurt like hell. Oh, I like that, let’s do that again!”

Another move. Hal was having trouble focusing, but he needed to say something.

“Sky, you shouldn't expect your lover to hurt you. Even if you—if you feel badly about something you’ve done.”

“Oh! You knew! And still you—Whoops, hang on! Nearly lost you.”

He pulled her down, a reflex, even as she spoke. He flicked his eyebrows at her and gave her the lopsided grin.

“Don’t worry, sweet. I won’t be leaving you any time soon.”

“Thanks. This first time thing is really awkward. I—well, this body has never done it, so I’m not sure of my movements. It all feels new to me,” she said. “I never cared about past experience before. How could I, as long as I’ve lived? But it matters now. That’s why I wanted to do this, not just to say I’m sorry. I just—I want you to be the only one. Ever. For everything.”

Hal smiled. Tears shone in his eyes. This woman. God, this woman!

“I like that idea,” he said.

He slid his hands up her sides until her breasts rested in the curves between his thumb and forefinger. He swirled his thumbs around her nipples as they kissed long and deep. He felt her fingers brush against his nipples as well. The first time she touched him there. He shivered at the thrill of her hesitant caress.

“Now what do we do?” Her voice was husky, eager.

Hal laughed out loud. Laughed at the strangeness of them, at the silliness of the queen of seduction sitting on his lap, pinned to his dick and awaiting instructions. Laughed with joy at their success, at the proof of his own gentleness, his own goodness.

“Oh! Your laugh! Hal, you’re moving in me, you’re—oh!” Her hands flew to her abdomen as her face lit up.

He laughed again. What do they do now? Here’s what they do.

“Fuck me, Sky, do it right, and I may let you into my bed tonight.”

“Yes sir, dirty rhymester!” She smiled coyly. “Of course, this is my first time so you’ll have to tell me what to do…”

===

They finally made it into Hal’s bed, after Sky’s first time and a nice warm shower.

Her first time was interesting.

She followed his lead and did an excellent job, but was so focused on getting it right for him that she didn't get it right for herself. The novelty of her new body and the flood of sensations sidetracked her; honestly, just getting the coordination down with her new limbs took some work.

Hal was patient and kept her steady as she moved. He was also responsive, and his growing excitement and tension thrilled her so much that she forgot everything else. When she felt the added slickness of extra fluid as he came, it occurred to Sky that she had missed out. The teasing hunger had gotten worse, and now the sex was over. First time meant bad timing, apparently. She didn't say anything, but Hal knew.

“You haven’t come yet,” he said as his grip on her hips relaxed and his focus returned. “I have to admit I’m surprised. You’re usually very good about that sort of thing.”

“New body. Not really sure what it will take for this one to come.”

“We should find out,” he said with a mischievous look. “If you intend to stay long enough, that is.”

“I’ll stay if you want me to.”

“I want you to.”

“Good! Oh, you’re leaving me.” She froze to keep his softening erection in her.

Hal shook his head fondly at her concentration. “Let it go, Sky. Get up. Stretch.”

She moved off his lap reluctantly and stood up. Her legs were due for a stretch anyway. Hal got to his feet, surprised to see that she barely came to his shoulder. Sky must be only 5 feet tall, if that. He hadn't realized just how small she was.

In a rush of affection Hal didn't quite understand, he picked her up and carried her into the spacious shower in his bathroom. She was caught off-guard and squealed, but didn't mind the attention and snuggled against him happily. He set her down after giving her a nearly-chaste kiss, then turned on the water and adjusted it to suit them.

Hal leaned against the shower wall and watched Sky stretch and smile as the water cascaded over her supple young body.

“First shower,” she said. “Everything feels new to me, not just the sex.”

“Sky, how old are you?”

“16?”

He arched an eyebrow. Something in her tone made him dubious.

“What’s the legal age of consent in England?”

“Sky. How old are you?”

She shrugged. “I’m guessing 13 or 14.”

“Christ! You’ve got me skirting the edge of paedophilia.” Hal was deeply shaken when she confirmed his fears. Too young. Jesus, he’d known it and ignored it.

“You know better. Despite modern customs, we both know that I’m plenty old enough for sex. In some cultures 13 is completely normal,” she said. “People get married at 13. Younger, even.”

“In some cultures child rape is acceptable,” he retaliated. “And there’s a difference between two young people enjoying each other’s company and a child with a—“ He paused, stuck for an appropriate word.

“Geezer?” She grinned. “What’s the big deal? You wanted me, or you wouldn’t have chosen me. Why fuss about it now?”

It was true. He’d reached for her before he knew Lena’s plan, and he’d led her through every step of their love-making. The dear girl hadn't held him down and leaped onto his dick.

“I wasn’t expecting you to offer me a child,” he said defensively. “With my history, it’s best if I avoid interacting with children.”

She turned under the shower. “I’m not a child, Hal. I would never offer you a child. I’m young, yes, but fully ready to enjoy sex. I was wet for you before you even touched me.”

He moved into the warm spray and stood behind her, rested his hands on her upper arms, and kissed the top of her head. He shouldn't want her.

“If you knew how many children I've defiled—“

“You didn't defile me,” she interrupted quietly. “You had every opportunity, but you didn’t. You were good, and kind, and gentle. You were better than I believed you could be. You surprised me, Hal.”

She leaned back against him and he put his arms around her. They caught her across her shoulders; her chin fit into the crook of his elbow. He wasn't sure if he was hugging her or hiding her from the world, somehow. No matter. She called him good, kind, gentle, and he had been. He’d surprised himself as well as her. Maybe it was all right for him to have this girl, as long as he took proper care of her.

“There’s a bench in this shower,” Hal said. “Will you sit?”

She sat down as he adjusted the spray to hit the center floor rather than the end where the bench had been built into the tiled enclosure. He knelt in front of her, meeting her questioning gaze with his own concerned one.

“Are you …sore, Sky? Have you any discomfort from our activities?” he asked.

“No, I’m just horny,” she replied with dawning comprehension.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but is there any chance that you have bled? At all? I haven’t noticed any, but frankly I've been distracted.”

“I don’t see any reason for there to be blood, but I’d feel better if you checked for yourself,” she said calmly. She spread her legs, exposing herself to him.

Hal caught himself leaning in, keen to taste her again. He stopped and breathed in carefully. The scent that had excited him, combined with his own smell, sharp in his nostrils. No blood. He reached out and she slid forward, meeting him eagerly. He probed carefully, checking for damage and watching her face for a telltale wince. He saw only her enjoyment. He withdrew his finger and studied it. Not a hint of blood.

Hal found himself deeply relieved, not just because it was safe for him to proceed, but because he had proof that he hadn't injured her in any way.

“I’m going to pleasure you now, Sky. You must tell me if anything I do doesn't suit you.”

His earnest look told her that he meant what he said, so she nodded, big-eyed and serious. He gently pulled her forward until she reached the edge of the bench with her legs against his sides. Hal had pleasured inexperienced young women in this way many times, but his own pleasure had been his ultimate goal, and the vampire had been waiting, just beneath the surface of his seeming generosity. Not this time. Not Sky’s first time.

Hal was very, very good at giving pleasure and Sky came quickly and enthusiastically. He heard no complaints among the noises that she made. He decided to see if Sky had Lena’s ability to linger in her orgasm, and to their great joy she did. He pleased her until her body hummed and she slumped on the bench, a spent wet noodle.

He left her to relax while he washed, and when he saw that she wasn't ready to move yet he washed her as well. Her limbs were easy enough to do, but somehow she ended up cradled in his arms as he washed her torso and face. He found himself enjoying it so much that he declined her offer to take care of herself and even held her as he turned off the shower and stepped out. She enjoyed his attentions so much that when he tried to set her down so they could dry themselves she clung to him in protest. He sat on the toilet lid with her on his lap and dried them both as best he could, then wrapped her in a robe and carried her to the bedroom, where he set her in an armchair while he got his bed ready.

When he turned back to her, Hal was slightly unnerved by her small form curled in his chair, swathed in a too-large robe. She looked like an eager child with her big blue eyes fixed on him.

“Have I earned a place in your bed?” she asked.

His heart leaped at her willing tone, and instead of suggesting that she sleep elsewhere or return to Lena’s familiar form, he continued their game. It didn't feel like a game anymore.

“Most definitely,” he said lightly. “Will I have to carry you there as well?”

She laughed as she threw off his robe, ran and jumped into bed.

_Christ_ , Hal thought, _could she get any more childlike? If I weren't going to hell already, what I want to do to this girl would guarantee it._

He hung his robe back in the bathroom and joined Sky in his bed. She was happily naked and he couldn't think of a good reason not to be, other than the twinge of guilt he felt at his desire for her. He stretched out on his back on his side of the bed and she snuggled into him, head on his shoulder, leg thrown over him. Her soft pubic hair tickled his hip.

At least she had pubic hair. And her breasts, while small, were perfectly formed and responded to his touch in a way that suggested sexual maturity. She had been wet when he first touched her, and she certainly lubricated herself effectively in preparation for sex. She’d been able to experience arousal and climax. Hal realized he was ticking off the boxes in his head, trying to prove to himself that he wasn't a paedophile at heart. Trying to assure himself that the vampire, not his own interest, had driven him toward children so many times.   

“You’re not a pedophile,” she said quietly.

“How can you be sure?” His arm was around her even as he spoke. His hand skimmed down her side and rested on the gentle curve of her hip.

“Because you know that I’m not actually 13. You know who I am. And because you haven’t once shown a sexual interest in any child we've encountered in our outings. And finally, because I’m sexually mature, which means I’m not a child, whatever chronological age this body may be. This girl wants you with all the hunger of a woman, Hal. I am a woman, a very satisfied woman thanks to you. Don’t let it mess with your head, okay?”

“That is a challenge,” he said.

“If you were human it wouldn't be.”

“If I were human I’d be risking prison right now.”

“I made this girl to give us something special together, not to cause you trouble. Dammit, I can’t do anything right!”

She sat up in a huff and turned away from him, but not before he caught the glimmer of tears on her cheeks. Hal sat up quickly, murmuring apologies for upsetting her as he pulled her back against him and held her. He was strangely protective of her.

“Hush now, don’t be upset. You are something special; you’re a treasure, a sweet, tender treasure. My treasure, my blue-sky girl.”

He rocked them quietly and thought of their unique situation. In the end, the label shouldn’t matter. He would be whatever he needed to be to make sure his Sky felt loved.

*Kanuri is an African ethnic group of peoples

 

 


	8. Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What to do with a moral dilemma?

They were sitting in Hal’s bed, quietly rocking and trying to resolve another difficult situation. Lena, in her eagerness to right a wrong, had created another one; she’d given Hal a girl who was too young for his comfort. Her soulless vampire had proven to be inconveniently ethical.

Sky spoke, her voice muffled against the curve of his chest as he held her close.

“You’re skilled at bringing a woman to climax. Does that skill work on a child as well?”

“Well, there’s you…”

“Not a child.”

“No, of course you’re not. I’ve never seduced a child.”

“Why not?”

He was quiet for a long moment. She was making him think about himself more closely than he had in a long time. Hal didn’t examine his motives while on the blood, and he avoided thinking about his depravity when he wasn’t imbibing.

“I wanted to destroy them, not please them.”

“It was about power, right? You got your satisfaction from torturing and killing. That’s what turned you on.”

“Yes,” he said quietly.

“You didn’t focus on children and exclude other age groups, did you?”

“No. Some vampires avoided children, some didn’t. I found their helplessness especially appealing, but they were hardly my only interest.”

She pulled away from him as he spoke so she could study him with her cool blue eyes. “Not a pedophile,” she said decisively.

“Just a murderous predator, then,” he said.

“Damn vampires,” she teased, “can’t take them anywhere. Always with the fangs and the blood and the big hard-ons.”

“We don’t all have big hard-ons,” he said. “Some things are up to genetics, not the curse.”

“You have lovely genetics.”

“I’m still a murderous predator.” He sighed and lay back down. “It’s hard to tell sometimes, where the vampire ends and the man begins.”

“Use me as your test case,” she said quietly as she settled near him. “Judge yourself by your treatment of me. You’ll see quickly enough that you are a better man than you believe yourself to be.”

“My thoughts say otherwise.”

“We can’t be judged by our thoughts, Hal. And I don’t believe yours are so bad. Do you want to tear me open and drink my blood?”

No! My god! How could you think that?” He jerked away and stared at her. She returned his look mildly.

“Then your thoughts probably fall within the realm of normal horny male thoughts. You just haven’t been a normal horny male enough to see that.”

He turned onto his side to face her. “I want you again, Sky.”

She edged closer. “Good. That puts you way beyond normal, though.” She grinned at him.

He ignored her grin. “I shouldn’t. I don’t know how I can, tired as I am. I believe I am enamoured of you.”

“Enamored goes both ways. I want to feel you in me again.”

“I fear I will wear you down or make you sore with my attentions.”

“You won’t.”

“You are so small. My weight may be too much for you.”

“Not likely.” She rested her slender fingers on his shoulder and traced the lines of muscle and bone to his throat and down his chest, around each areola, and down his tight stomach.

“You should be on top,” Hal murmured as her touch sent chills of desire through him. “It will be safer for you.”

“Not a child,” she said. Her fingers brushed against his erection, hesitated, and returned to stroke its length.

“First time,” she said with wonder in her voice. “Amazing. The skin is so soft, like fine silk. So much power contained by such soft skin. I know so much, and yet, to experience it in this body changes it all. These fingertips have never touched a man. Every nerve ending is alight with new sensation, sending those signals to this brain. A brain that has never received those signals, never processed the knowledge of male potency. And yet, I’m still me. Me and not me.”  

Sky brought her body closer until her pubic hair brushed against his erection. She heard his almost imperceptible moan as she pressed against him; he quivered and swallowed thickly. She could see the flutter of his racing blood in the skin along the base of his throat. She could see his chest shake from the pounding of his heart, and the tremors carried into her hand where it rested on him. Her slight stature gave her an intimate perspective from which to watch her effect on him.

It was odd, being so small. Hal wasn’t a large man, and yet his hugs engulfed her and when he put his hands on her sides his fingers nearly met in the middle of her back. She felt delicate, even though she knew she wasn’t. She liked that he was protective of her; she rested in him and let him take care of her. How long had it been since she’d felt like this? Maybe never. Raised to be a guardian and a warrior, not a fragile girl. Not a tender treasure.

She knew that tomorrow meant her disappearance, probably forever. Hal and Lena had business of their own to attend to, and Sky had no place in their plans. He would return to his true love and she would become a shared memory. They would recall his gentle care for her and forget the distress she brought him. He wouldn’t ask to see her again.

But for tonight she was his blue-sky girl, and she would enjoy him as much as he allowed.

Through Sky’s blue eyes, Lena watched Hal struggle against his desire for Sky’s young form; she admitted to herself that she had done him a disservice by thinking he would welcome the chance to have her. And yet, she couldn’t turn away from him and leave him be. Hal was a gentler man than she thought possible. The power and danger she loved in him were so firmly in check that Sky could believe those aspects of his nature didn’t exist. She wanted this gentle man, loved him; she had fallen in love with him all over again.

As she felt the pulse of blood in his erection keeping time to the hammer of her heart in his chest, she surrendered her own ethics to her need for him. She would take him into Sky’s body again.

Sky put her slender leg over his and pulled them together, slipping him into her as she did. Her first time to hold his weight in her hand and to feel her own slick arousal. Hal put a hand on her back and finished what she started, pressing them together gently.

“Oh! You still feel so big,” she murmured. Her hand skimmed around his side and rested on his buttock.

“I want your muscles under my hand while you move in me,” she said.

He rolled his hips smoothly, and when she nodded her approval he continued, as their legs tangled and their hands caressed and gripped each other’s bodies. She found it easy to follow his rhythm. She kissed his chest and shoulders because that was all she could reach.

She turned her face upward and kissed Hal’s chin, and he curved his back to reach her and return her kiss. His kisses made up for the loss of his body against her; slow, sweet kisses that matched their rhythm. She could do this forever.

Eventually a sense of urgency began to creep into his kisses; he was holding back, trying to be gentle for her sake, trying to make it last until she could meet his arousal with her own. She realized that once again she wasn’t paying attention and would probably miss out on a climax. She wasn’t in tune with this body yet.

Hal noticed her situation as well, and he refused to let Sky to miss out on the pleasure she was so ready to give him. He slipped a hand between them and stroked her soft damp curls, parted them, and eased his fingers over her clitoris. She recognized what he was doing and increased the fervor of her kisses as a ‘thank you’ before he even made contact. And oh! The contact!  

From his first touch, the dual sensation of him moving in her and playing with her made her twitch and twist with pleasure. She chased a sensation she couldn’t define, desperate to bridge a gap she didn’t understand. She urged him faster, moved against him quicker, trying to climb through space and reach her climax. Tingles spread through her, down to her fingers and toes. Her nipples tightened; she pushed against him—a reflex, a plea.  At last! She gasped, froze.

“Perfect.”

He heard her whisper. It made him foolishly happy. He kept moving exactly as he had been—her body told him that perfect didn’t mean finished.

Her eyelids fluttered.

“Hal.” His name was a whisper in her ragged breath.

“Hmm?”

“Perfect.”

“Thank you,” he said softly.

…

“You done?”

“Not quite.”

“But I’m so wet.”

“That’s all you, my sweet.”

“You did that—to me?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Perfect.”

…

 

When he felt her climax ease, he moved his hand from between them and focused on his own, cupping her backside to hold her against him as firmly as he dared. She clutched him just as tightly and met him eagerly, stroke for stroke, kiss for kiss until he pulled away from her mouth so he could take in air. He hugged her to him instead.

“Oh! You’re doing it again!”

Her happy cry made him laugh out loud. She was so young and joyful. She was perfect, and thanks to him, she was undamaged as well.

= = =

When Hal woke up in the morning, he and Sky were spooning. She was the little spoon, of course. She’d turned his shoulder joint into a makeshift pillow and had a hand on his upper arm alongside her face. His arm was around her chest and his hand on top of hers—he felt her breath and her eyelashes tickled a knuckle. Her hair was beginning to catch in the whiskers of his chin and neck. It was all very sweet, until he realized that his other hand, rather than being stretched on the bed or under a pillow, was tucked securely between her thighs. He tried to discreetly disengage.

“Don’t go,” she murmured.

He sighed. So much for discretion.

“Your dick is poking my butt,” she said.

He sighed again. So much for sweet.

“Your language is abominable,” he softly chastised.

“I’m sorry. Should I be as delicate in my speech as I am in my size?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Your alert and engaging penis is addressing my derriere,” she said. She giggled.

He sighed. What had he gotten himself into?

“How are you feeling this morning, Sky?” he asked quietly.

“A little sad,” she replied. “I have to leave soon, and I’m not ready. I like being me, and I like the way you take care of me.”

“When our expedition is over, will you return for another visit?”

“Are you inviting me to? I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me again. I don’t want to cause you any distress, Hal.”

Her wistful tone touched his heart and called him to be honest with her. He moved his hand away from her cheek and put his arm around her waist instead so he could hug her better as he spoke.

“I’d very much like to see you again.  Everything is new to you, and when you have a new experience I feel some of that newness. It has been a very long time for me as well, you know, and the world can become wearisome after a few centuries.”  

“I didn’t realize how much I take for granted until last night,” she said. “Simple things, you know? The tingle of a warm shower on my skin, the feel of water running down my body. A snuggly robe. Clean sheets. You. Not that you’re simple. You’re the most complicated person I’ve ever met.”

“Pot, meet kettle. How do you think I feel?” As he asked the question the hand that had been at her waist drifted north of the border until it found a small, soft breast to caress.

“You feel pretty damn good to me,” she said. “Oops, sorry, language. You feel strong and gentle, and I find that very attractive.”

“Thank you, but you should be saying that I feel like an ancient lecher,” he said.

“You don’t feel at all ancient, Hal. In fact, I’d say you’re feeling downright sprightly this morning.” She giggled as she tweaked his erection with her backside.

“Stop that,” he said mildly.

She tweaked him again. “Make me.”

“Hussy,” he murmured. “Watch yourself, girl. I may pin you down and have my way with you.”

“Try it,” she challenged.

She grasped his hand and moved it from her thigh to her lady parts. When he didn’t move, she pressed his hand into her so he could see that she was already aroused and spoke again.

“No, really, try it.”

He brushed past her clitoris and slipped a finger inside her to investigate further. She was definitely interested.

“Come on, I dare you.” She tweaked his erection again.

He rolled them over and she quickly spread her legs. His knees hit the mattress; he surged forward and was in her, just like that. Hand under her to steady her pelvis for ease of entry, fingers on her clitoris to make sure she enjoyed herself. Supporting himself on an elbow, looking down at—where the hell was she?

He looked further down, followed the trail of hair tangled in his whiskers, and found the side of her face partially covered by his pillow. She pulled it off her and tossed it aside.

“Dang, Hal. You didn’t get any smaller overnight.”

“Did I hurt you?” He braced himself to leave her.

“No! No, not at all. You’re just…very filling.” She lifted her body slightly to feel his weight on her. “You’re big all over to me. I like it. I like being tucked under you like a secret.”   

He moved in her, a nice smooth stroke to warm her up and make sure she was ready for intercourse. Then another, and he couldn’t stop himself, even though the word ‘secret’ stuck in his thoughts.

“Sky? You will have to be a secret. You know that, don’t you?”

“From Tom and Alex, you mean? Holy shi—I mean oh my! Hal, you’re hitting the highlights already!”

She picked up the thread of conversation again. “No way they won’t judge you for this one, huh?”

“How could they not? I still judge myself.”

“Hal—“

“Forget it, Sky, I could live in you!” he interrupted as he gave up the struggle for the moment. “Christ, how can this feel so right?”

“Um, Hal?” her voice came from under him, husky, breathless. “We’re…we’re gonna have to…pick this up later…sweet Jesus! I can’t think right now…”

He chuckled. He loved hearing her approaching climax in her voice, and he was happy to focus on the moment and forget everything else.

= = =

She was still on her stomach, about three-fourths under him. His leg was between hers, his arm stretched across the bed alongside hers. It was time for her to leave, but they lingered. They were already a day late beginning their treasure hunt. What would another hour matter?

_It no longer matters,_ Hal thought. _I’ve already found my treasure._

He moved so she could get comfortable, turning onto his side and tucking her against him.

“Where did you come from, Sky? Where did Lena find you?”

“In her memory. From centuries ago. This form belonged to a girl she rescued, a very special girl.”

Sky turned on her back and he propped himself on an elbow to observe her as she told the story.

“I was hunting a band of marauders in the north. Not so unusual an occurrence in those days. I was flying and saw them from a distance, so I hurried to get to her. There were five of them on her. She was fighting, shrieking curses at them. They’d stripped her and four of them were holding her limbs while the fifth mounted her. He’d just made the big plunge when I cut off his head. It fell onto her chest. His blood sprayed everywhere. The others leaped away and ran. She flung the head after them. Kicked the body away, pulled the dead man’s sword from its sheath and chased them! My god, Hal, you should have seen her!”

“I was going to kill them all, but I saved the last for her. She swung that sword with a ferocity that made my heart sing! It was nearly as big as she was, but she bore the weight so easily, as if it was nothing. Her rage gave her strength. She nearly cut the villain in half. She stood over him screaming her revenge, naked, dripping with blood, powerful and free. The whole thing lasted less than a minute but I never forgot her. I thought she’d be a good match for you.”

He nodded. Naked, dripping with blood, powerful, free. He’d known days like that himself, although his days had been sinister and his freedom had cost many lives.

“You didn't stop?”

“There was no need. By the time I’d finished, the threat to her village was gone.”

“You said you wanted a girl who hadn't been touched. You didn’t heal her?” There was a note of condemnation in his voice.

Sky frowned slightly. “This girl isn't that girl, Hal. I just used her looks and her spirit. And no, I didn't heal her. She wasn’t a victim, she was a warrior. Warriors wear their scars proudly.”

She heard herself getting defensive and changed her tone. “She was too strong. She would have resented my offer to heal her. Sometimes healing isn’t the best choice, you know? Sometimes we want the proof of our battles.”

“Her people had cowered in their huts while she was chased down like an animal. I saw them, creeping out, watching her with awe. They needed to see what had been done to her, to see how she had fought for herself when they refused to fight for her. She was their courage. She would be their queen.”

Sky looked up at his beautiful hazel eyes—green sparks firing against the brown. She saw his understanding of her choices, long ago and now. This girl was a match for him, in spite of her slight form and apparent youth. She stirred and sat up.

“I need to go.”

Hal thought Sky meant that she needed to use the bathroom, until she moved in the opposite direction, toward the door into the living room. She was leaving him, just like that.

“Sky?”

The door was already closing behind her. It paused, then the latch caught firmly as she pulled it to. She was gone. He dropped back onto his bed and thought of her, skimming his hand along his body as he did. He smiled as he traced her warmth and stirred up her scent from his skin. She was gone, but she’d be back. All he had to do was ask.

Hal rolled out of bed and into the next adventure, trying not to feel disoriented by everything that had happened over the past two days. Even the comfortable routine of showering and dressing for the day did little to dispel the sense of unreality, probably because he wore new clothes of a type he would normally not have chosen.

He didn’t mind the slightly baggy lightweight canvas trousers, or the loose, long-sleeved cotton shirt. The rest of his outfit was questionable, and the shoes were a disappointment—he’d envisioned classic lace-up boots, but Lena suggested lightweight hiking shoes that breathed and that dried quickly. Apparently the world of wilderness exploration had greatly advanced over the past century, and Hal wasn’t sure he trusted the new technology of shoes that leaked on purpose and t-shirts that wicked sweat away from his body.

He’d almost finished dressing when he felt the disturbance in the Force that meant she’d left. Lena had told him that she needed to pop over to her American home for the tokens that proved her place among the people they’d be meeting today. He thought they could go together, as it was more or less on the way, but she wanted to go alone. She said that she wanted his first visit to her home to be something special, not just a quick drop-in while running an errand. He chose to believe her.

He felt her return as he was checking over the items he planned to fit into his backpack for the trip. Change of clothes, extra socks, water purifying kit, pre-packaged food, and a few simple tools. Plenty of sunscreen and industrial-strength mosquito repellant. Hal depended on the blood of his victims to power his body, and he wasn’t going to replenish his stock. Therefore he had to protect it against swarms of blood-suckers that lurked in hot, moist environments.

Hal was making coffee when a knock on the door to their suite startled him.

“That’s breakfast,” Lena called from her room in a voice not her own. She stuck her head out the door. “Can you get it? I’m not quite myself this morning.”

“Certainly,” Hal said. He didn't falter at her appearance—she’d already taken the form she needed for the trip, as he’d expected.

He decided to address his disquietude while they ate, which was in itself an unusual tactic. Hal preferred to avoid rather than confront situations that made him uncomfortable, but in this case he thought it best to clear the air before they left for South America. Things were unsettled between them and he needed to find out what had happened. Sitting across from a brown-skinned, black-haired woman with tribal tattoos across her forehead and down her neck didn't help with his sense of instability.

“We left Honolulu Heights only two days ago, yet I feel as though my world has shifted off its axis,” he said quietly. “What happened to us?”

“I’ve been thinking about that, too,” Lena replied. “You know, we haven’t tested ourselves until now. Our home is sequestered from the world. It is a safe place. We go about our lives quietly; we limit our interactions with humanity. By coming here, and by going to Brazil, we are throwing ourselves into the mix. This is new to us, and I’m not sure we’ve handled it well so far.”

“You think a trip to the office, a meal in a restaurant, and a little shopping had so much influence on us? My god, Lena, we took a flying sex tour around the world! We had an argument that nearly broke us. We’ve hurt each other badly, and could have done even more had we chosen. Are we truly that unstable?”

“Not ‘we.’ Just me. I’m that unstable. This is my fault.” She was quiet for a moment as she tried to find a way to explain herself. Hal didn’t argue with her, for once. He recognized that she wasn't finished speaking, so he waited.

“We’ve worked it all out at home, haven’t we?” she said. “We yelled and cussed and threw things, and we hurt each other and forgave each other and finally found a way to be okay together at home. We have our routines. We know our places, we know what to do, day-to-day. I feel in control, there. But my control is a lie, isn't it? I've had to face the lie, coming here.”

“I don’t know how to be with you,” she confessed. “With humans it’s easy. I just hide myself and be human too. But I can’t hide from you. You know me, Hal, in ways that no human lover has ever known me. Your knowledge of me gives you an advantage—it gives you power.”

She met his worried look, and he saw something in her eyes that he never expected to see—fear. “You mean too much to me,” she said. “I would do anything for you, and that scares me. So I had a major freak-out and tried to push the balance of power back onto my side of the playing field.”  

“This isn’t a game,” Hal said. “This is our lives.”

“I know that. If it was just a game it wouldn’t matter. But Hal, I meant what I said. ‘Take of mine what you want.’ When I heard those words leave my mouth, I knew I had given you power over me. Not just you, but those parts of you that are best kept powerless, don’t you see? So I pushed back against the truth I had spoken.”

“Parts that are best kept powerless. You mean the vampire?”

“No, that isn’t you. The vampire is a separate thing.”

“Him.”

“Yes. In order to be with you, I am required to accept His Lordship as part of your core being, beyond the influence of the vampire. And I have to trust you to keep that part of yourself in hand.”

“You know I may not be able to do so, not if he is allowed into the open.”

“Then I have to trust you to teach me how to handle him when he makes himself known. And I must accept him, for your sake. He must become lima beans as well, because he’s a part of you.”

Hal’s face and voice took on a deadly grimness as he spoke. “You must never accept him. He will use it against you. Lena, he wanted to tear you to shreds on that beach, just because of your wings! He will revel in his power over you! He will ruin us if we let him.”

“He can’t hurt me, Hal. Not really. And besides…” She clutched her trembling hands in her lap and whispered in a voice that shook, “I don’t know how to love only part of a man.”

“Hush! Woman, hush. Don’t. Don’t expose yourself like this, please.”

“Then tell me what to do, Hal. Tell me how to be with you.”

“How the hell should I know?” Hal’s frustration was apparent in his voice. “I’ve had zero successful relationships. You’re the only one here who’s managed not to ruin or devour her lovers. Christ, I’m just thankful we’re both still alive!”

“Give me some ground rules, at least. Something to keep us safe.”

He sat, shaking his head for a minute. “Fine. Ground rules. Very well. Number one: Never let him have the upper hand, for both our sakes.”

“But what if—“

“No what if’s. Take any measures necessary to protect yourself from that part of me. Do you understand? Any measures.” He stared her down and waited until she nodded her agreement.

“Number two: Don’t encourage him into the open, no matter what situation we find ourselves in. The risk far outweighs any benefit he may offer.”

“Understood.”

“Number three: …I can’t think of a number three. Don’t you have a code of conduct or something that we can use here?”

I have the moral laws that all eternal beings are supposed to follow, but I don’t think they apply,” she said.

“What are they? Have you told me them?”

“I don’t know that I have,” she said. “I learned them as a young child, and they have been the guiding principles of my life ever since. For the most part, anyway. I’m far from perfect in obeying them.” She recited them from memory.

“The first moral law: Love the creator and honor the creation, with the exception of those who choose evil and threaten the welfare of us all.”

“The second moral law: Do unto others as we would have them do unto us, with the exception of evil beings who inflict their evil upon others.”

“The third moral law: Walk lightly in the world, do no harm, protect all those who need protection, with the exception of those whose evil ways cry out for justice.”

The fourth moral law: Forgive those who hurt you, not for their sake but for your own. You must forgive to protect your soul. Forgiveness heals the forgiver, not the forgiven.” She paused. “To this law there is no exception.”

“Well, that explains a great deal,” Hal said. “I am clearly the exception to rules one through three. I’m surprised there isn’t an exception just for vampires in rule number four. We are an irredeemable bunch as a whole.”

“And yet, here you sit.”

“And yet, here I sit, thanks to you, my lady.” He smiled at her.

“Can’t we just call Lord Henry out into the open and let me kick his ass good and proper? I can make him behave.” She narrowed her eyes. “You know I can.”

“That doesn't sound like forgiveness to me.” Hal mocked her gently.

“I don’t have anything to forgive him for, currently. You’re the one who wants us to avoid him, not me. Maybe you need to forgive him for something.”

“This conversation is giving me a headache, and I’m not sure we've resolved anything,” Hal deflected.

“We've resolved that I’m only comfortable when I’m in control and when you only have the power I allow you to have,” she said. “Wow, that sounds really selfish of me, doesn’t it?”

“Just a bit, yes.”

“I may have trust issues.”

“You think so?”

“Smartass.”

“What more can I do to earn your trust, my lady?” Hal was earnest in his question, so she responded in kind.

“The thing is, I do trust you. I could hand you control of my holdings right now and trust you to run things. In many ways I already have. I trust you personally as well, more than I've trusted anyone outside my original family. More than some of them, even.”

“But you don’t trust me not to hurt you,” he said quietly. “You are right to feel as you do. I have hurt you, and will do so again, I’m sure. It is inevitable. With me.”

“Ah, there it is,” she murmured as she recalled that Hal had very limited experience with human relationships. “It is inevitable. With anyone. People who share their lives with each other will hurt each other. It’s human nature, and we have enough human in us to follow that path. We have hurt each other, and we will do so again. We must trust that we can see each other through those times and come out of them together. There is my weakness, Hal.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m a runner.”

She took a breath and continued. He’d found the truth and she had to acknowledge it. She owed him that. “When I get hurt, emotionally hurt, I run. I run so I won’t get hurt again, so I won’t get hurt worse by the person I care for. Better to leave and protect myself from further pain. I ran, when I heard of your betrayal all those years ago. I ran away, when I should have run toward you. I let my pain overrule my faith in you and in our love, and I lost you because of it.”

“But I can’t run from you this time, no matter how bad it gets. Beneath everything we've built together is the ugly truth that we are bound together by the vampire, whether we want to be or not. We’ve covered the bars with velvet and lace, but the cage still holds us.”

  
  



	9. The People

Hal and Lena sat at the breakfast table, trying to find their way through the turmoil Lena had created between them. Lord Henry, her fear of being hurt again, her need to control her world, her need for Hal were all challenges they had to face together.

And the vampire. The unbeatable foe, the unsolveable puzzle. No way to defeat the vampire. They’re trapped with it forever. Caged, as Lena said.  

“Part of you fights against the cage, even though you’ve suppressed the vampire.” Hal said. “Freedom is impossible for us, but still you fight.”

“Of course I fight. We’ll find a way to defeat it, Hal. We must. Or at least I want you to control it, rather than allow it to control you. Did you call the vampire the night before last?”

“No. The memories triggered my manifestation. I believe Lord Henry had something to do with that. Another reason to keep him locked away. Let us use the cage for him and free ourselves to fly together, my lady.”

“I suppose caging that aspect of yourself gives us a sense of security. You can’t cage yourself forever, though. We both know that.”

“I’m very good at keeping myself in a cage. And I want Lord Henry secured, as you say, while I do my best to remove him from existence entirely. He is of no use to me anymore. He is of no use to _us_.”

Lena thought about Hal’s offer. She loved the sound of it, but she didn’t believe it was the best solution. She wanted more for him. She wanted freedom for the whole man, not just those parts of himself he was comfortable with.

“I’d rather find a way to integrate him back into your core being. Remember our conversation in my office? Your brutality, your rage, your ambition. Lord Henry is part of you. I believe we would be best served by re-integrating him, as recommended by psychiatric practices.”

Lena included that term to show Hal she accepted his understanding of himself and the split he’d created in his own psyche. He acknowledged her understanding but not her recommendation.

“Most people would prefer to keep brutality and rage far removed from their core being. You would have me become a sane, well-balanced psychopath?”

“Humans have brutality and rage at the core, just as they have kindness and generosity. Those aspects of human nature don’t make you a psychopath, they just make you human.”

“I haven’t been human for a very long time,” Hal said quietly.

“Hal, I believe that when you were human you didn’t get to live a human life. You got only a horrible perversity of it during your formative years, and that damaged you. You have a second chance to develop your humanity now. With me. You can be human, and more than human now. Not a travesty, not a monster. Hal, you can be legendary in a new way. You can be a creature unlike any other in history.”

“I don’t understand what you mean, Lena. How can a vampire be anything but a monster?”

Lena reached for him and held his hand in hers as she spoke. Maybe it was too soon for this. She’d only begun to think it and didn’t have a clear understanding herself yet.

“I’m only beginning to see it, so I don’t know if I can explain” she said. “I feel it, Hal. I feel a sense of potential in you. If all of those parts of you could ever work together, if the man could be one whole person, if that person could control the power of the vampire and direct it at will. My god! What a thing you could be! What a force we could be in the world! A force for good, Hal. Not evil.”

“You speak of things that I’ve always considered impossible,” Hal said. “Me, able to control the vampire. Me, whole and sane. Me, a good man rather than a killer who loves the most vicious aspects of torment and murder. And yet, I’m beginning to hope for some of those things as well. Thanks to Sky, I’m able to consider the possibility that I have it in me to be a good man. An inveterate lecher, but a good man of sorts, at least,” he added simply.

“Hal, please. Not the age thing again.”

“It was wrong of you, Lena, horribly wrong, to offer up such a young girl to the man you called a prodigious sexual predator.” He chastised her quietly, holding his emotions in check so as not to start an argument. “A virgin, fine. I understand the sentiment of wanting to share that, of wanting us to commit ourselves to each other again after such a terrible falling out. It’s a beautiful idea. But Lena, she’s too young.”

“I told you it was a whim. I didn’t think it through—“

“You chose a girl who had been brutally used by men and recreated her to be brutally used by me. That was more than a whim; it was a choice. You intended for me to injure you. Clearly I’m not the only one who’s good at self-flagellation.”

She sat with head bowed, ashamed of herself once again.

“I felt your despair,” she said softly. “After you left me and went to your room, I felt it. I hurt you so badly, as badly as I had when you were human. That same sense of abandonment, shame—oh god!—defeat rose up in you, and my soul carried it to me. I knew then, what I’d done by running away last time. And I knew what I’d done by calling you a monster this time. You can’t injure me enough to make up for the pain I’ve caused you.”

Tears dropped onto her lap as she swallowed down a sob and continued. “I killed you, Hal. I made you a vampire just as surely as the creature who found you on the battlefield and turned you. You should hate me for what I’ve done.”

“You give yourself too much credit, my lady,” Hal said as he left his seat and knelt beside her. He stilled her trembling hands by holding them in his steady ones. “I chose to believe the lie that poisoned my ears when I should have believed the truth that rang in my heart. Not only my heart—I had the truth in front of my eyes, in the letter you left me. I was too proud and too stubborn to ask what it said. I could have taken it to the parish priest, if nothing else. He would have read it to me.”

Hal kissed her hands and released them to take a napkin from the table and wipe the tears from her face. “No, my lady. Don’t blame yourself for my stupidity. I was an angry, arrogant young peasant who’d become too proud of his success with the local noblewoman. I was due to be brought low. If I had been a man worthy of a woman such as you, I wouldn’t have fallen so easily for Andrzej’s deceit.”

“You are already a better man now than you were when you were human,” she said as she took the napkin from him and kissed his hand in turn, holding it to her face.

“I don’t see how that can be possible,” he said. “Not considering what I am and what I’ve done. It is a forlorn hope at best.”

“I don’t understand it, but I know it is true. I see it in you, Hal. You’ve proven it, time after time. You proved it with Sky, just last night.”

He pulled his hand away from her and rose to his feet. “Violence is my native language. Have you forgotten?”

“I’ve killed far more people than you have, and I’ve taken violence to levels you can’t imagine,” she replied as she stood up to face him.

“I’ve committed unspeakable acts.”

“As have I.”

“Against the innocent?”

She hesitated. “Against the damned. Against myself.”

He frowned. “What does that mean?”

Lena shook her head. “Unspeakable. Self-flagellation, as you say. But Hal, you don’t want to commit those acts now, do you? Against the innocent?”

“No, my lady, I’m happy to let you direct my violent tendencies toward our enemies instead. Which I hope will happen again in the near future.”

“Good. I think that’s our cue to leave, don’t you?” She looked toward his backpack, sitting against the end of the sofa. “It looks like you’re ready.”

“I believe I am. I packed as we discussed,” Hal said.

“Then we’ve only to put on the tokens of The People,” she said.

“We?”

“Yes, if you like. I’ll show you.” Lena took his hand and led him into her room, where a slender wooden box lay on her bed.

She opened the clasp and lifted the lid to expose two neckpieces of hammered gold trimmed with small, brightly-colored feathers, and two sets of gold cuffs. They were all marked with the same emblem, that of a flaming sun enclosed by wings. One of the sets of jewelry was slightly larger than the other, as if meant to fit around a thicker neck and wrists.

“Long ago, the shaman for The People made these,” Lena said.

The People. Lena had twice used the word Hal recognized from her previous introduction of the woman before him and the tribe she protected. Hal had met her, listened to her story, and taken her to bed. She had become a favorite. During the course of their times together she’d explained the name of the tribe as well as her own title, the Protector.

“It means The People, in their native tongue. It is their name,” she’d said. “Many tribes refer to themselves as the people, or the one people. It’s part of humanity’s natural desire to determine its place in existence.”

Hal felt comfortable enough by now to use the term himself, although he knew only a few words of the language.

“And the shaman was a healer for The People as well as a craftsman? One set for you and one for your consort at the time, I suppose?” Hal asked as he ran his fingers lightly over the design on the larger neckpiece.

“He was my consort at the time, but yes, that was the idea.” Lena smiled. “He was a good healer and a wise man. He knew small magic as well, enough to serve The People.”

She put on a neckpiece so that it rested on the skin exposed by her tank top, under her long-sleeved cotton shirt. ”Your choice, Hal. You don’t need to wear these; being with me will be enough for you to be accepted. But you certainly are entitled to them.”

Lena studied his face for a moment while putting on her cuffs. There was desire—he liked the idea of wearing symbols of his place at her side. There was also a question.

She answered the question and acknowledged the legitimacy of his desire. “I haven’t offered them to anyone else. It would make me happy for you to accept them as your right.”

Hal glanced at her quickly, then smiled to himself. She was certainly astute when it came to reading him. He put on the neckpiece as Lena had done, resting it over his t-shirt so that it showed through the open collar of his button-down shirt. He slipped on the cuffs. They were surprisingly lightweight and well-balanced. He wouldn’t find them a hindrance, as he had feared he would.

She slung her backpack over a shoulder and led him back to the living area, where he put his backpack on and stepped into her embrace. His excitement was growing—he was eager for their treasure hunt and what he hoped would come after. Hetty, and the vampires’ nest.

The opening notes of Beethoven’s 5th Symphony sounded from Lena’s trouser pocket. Her cell phone, and a ring tone Hal hadn’t heard before. Judging by the instant change in her expression from anticipation to worried, that ring tone signaled an emergency. Hal was right. A few brief syllables spoken in her calmest, most dangerous tone of voice told him so.

Lena stuck her phone back in her pocket.

“The People are ill. Plague or disease, as yet unknown. An emergency medical team is onsite.”

“Then our timing is impeccable.” Hal said.

“I can’t cure disease or plague, Hal. I can only heal those injuries caused by mankind,” Lena reminded him. She was clearly worried for the safety of her people.

“Yes, my lady. I remember. If nothing else, we may be able to help diagnose and treat this illness, whatever it is. Plague is carried by vermin, diseases are spread by contact. Whichever this may be, it is likely something we’ve encountered before.”

Lena used his words as her cue to unfurl her wings and wrap them around herself and Hal. They changed from grey to a rich rainbow of colors—the colors found in tropical birds. Hal felt the familiar shift in the air, a moment of disconnection with the world, and then his feet were on unfamiliar ground.

Lena’s wings unfurled to reveal a large village of elevated dwellings built from local materials. Lush greenery invaded the clearing’s edges in a manner that told Hal of The People’s need for diligence in keeping the rain forest from growing over their homes. The humidity settled on him at the same time he became aware of the stares. He stepped away from Lena’s embrace and took in his surroundings in a quick, penetrating look. Reconnoitering was ingrained.

Two types of persons crowded the open spaces between dwellings and filled what was an open-air meeting place with a thatched roof on poles. Those in modern dress, many with medical instruments, moved among the sick. They were checking pulses and temperature, offering medicine and comfort, drawing blood. Hal noted the blood. That too was ingrained.

The People, most of whom wore a mix of native and modern clothes, resembled the form Lena had taken. Black hair, brown skin, tattoos. Men, women, and children without discrimination were racked with pain and fever. They were lying on pallets, staggering toward help, or assisting those who were already too wretched to help themselves. Hal could smell their fear. He couldn’t smell disease. Something else was afoot here.

The People were terrified, devastated—until they saw their Protector, and everything changed. Joy and relief swept through the village as Lena stretched out her rainbow wings. She began to glow and flames danced through her black hair; she became the living embodiment of the symbol she wore. Hal wore the symbol as well, and he saw it repeated throughout the village.

The People dropped to their knees, faces touching the ground. Those who couldn’t move had their faces covered by those who could. Hal assumed it was a gesture of respect. The medical team froze at Lena’s appearance and most of them who were standing knelt as their activities allowed.

Lena spoke a few syllables in the native tongue, followed by a command in Brazilian Portuguese and English.

“Continue your work. We are here to help.”

She furled her wings and turned to Hal. A shared look was all they needed to know they had come to the same conclusion. Lena spoke to him, not in English but in the Polish dialect they had used when he was human. She wanted privacy, and he agreed with her wisdom.

“Evil hangs over this place like a cloud.”

“There’s no disease or plague here. I know the variety of scents put off by damaged bodies too well not to recognize those things when they are present,” Hal said quietly.

“Someone is trying to kill The People,” Lena agreed.

“Poison?”

“I believe so. I’ll try to heal.”

“I’ll find the source.”

Lena moved quickly into the throng of The People who had risen and come to welcome her as their goddess. No doubt they’d been praying for her to save them. Their voices rose as their hands reached for her, but she stilled them and spoke.

“Take me to the most ill, so I can begin to heal.”

She was borne away toward the meeting house turned makeshift hospital. Hal focused on the medical team, which included a number of security guards and non-medical workers who had been drafted for the job. They weren’t as shocked to see Lena as Hal might have expected, had they not been in uniform. They were employed by This Precious Earth and knew enough about its founder to accept her sudden appearance. Perhaps they’d been warned that she would be contacted.

Hal didn’t bother with introductions. “I need an English speaker.”

His command was obeyed by a young man who stepped forward.

“I speak English and can interpret.”

“Who is in charge?”

“Dr. Paredes.” The young man was already moving in the direction he assumed Hal wanted to go. “I am Heitor.”

“Hal Yorke.”

“You are with the Protector. Are you a god?”

“Hardly.”

Dr. Paredes worked near the hospital area, in a small lab set up for diagnosis of the mysterious illness. He was fairly young, fit, and very likely intelligent. He looked like the self-confident type, although his confidence wasn’t showing. He appeared to be baffled by what he was finding, which was no explanation for the symptoms being displayed by the sick and dying People.

He was surrounded by vials of blood and medical equipment, including a microscope, centrifuge, and laptop for analysis of data. Hal didn’t recognize most of the equipment but he suspected that Alex would. She watched _NCIS_ , a military crime drama imported from the States and shown on British television. This looked like a portable lab that Abby, NCIS forensics expert and Alex’s girl crush, would have set up. No matter.

“Dr. Paredes. I need a vial of blood, preferably just drawn.”

Hal held out a hand and accepted the vial from the hesitant doctor. It was still warm. He pulled out the rubber stopper and inhaled deeply. As molecules of blood hit his nostrils Hal manifested; he made no attempt to disguise his black eyes or fangs. This wasn’t the time for discretion.

Hal heard his species name repeated in several languages as humans moved away from him in horror. Not as much disbelief as he’d seen in other crowds, but then again these people were already acquainted with the supernatural. Hal disregarded the humans in his vicinity, which was in itself an unusual circumstance for the vampire, and focused on the task at hand.

It was there, in the blood. The faintest tickle. Hal doubted that anyone besides the most experienced vampire could tell it, and then only when looking. The thousands of victims over the course of hundreds of years had refined Hal Yorke’s senses to the point of exquisite sensitivity to the subtlest variations in human blood. In this case his experience would serve a better purpose than typical. It wasn’t a matter of appetite or the avoidance of a bad case of indigestion that poison could cause.

He believed it was poison. He didn’t recognize it as any he’d encountered. Hal needed to know what he was dealing with, so he could track it to the source and with any luck track the poisoner as well.

He set a fingertip on the end of the vial and got it wet with blood. He looked at the blood on his finger. Too much. He scraped most of it off on the top edge of the vial, stoppered the vial, and set it on the table. Hal stepped away from the lab and its many vials of blood. Only then did he put his finger in his mouth and swipe the bit of blood along his tongue.

Lena watched Hal while she knelt among the sick and dying and drew the poison into herself. The oldest and youngest were always the first to be stricken by disease, it seemed. Some truths are universal. In this case some of the sickest were also strong and healthy; it was another indication of poison rather than disease.

Lena saw Hal manifest as he smelled the blood. She saw the curse flair dark over him and subside, only to flair again as he tasted it. It subsided more slowly and less completely. Part of her wanted to stop him; part of her wanted to scream at him for taking such a risk. She chose to trust him instead. For the first time Lena saw the vampire as an ally rather than an enemy to be destroyed. As long as Hal could control it.

Hal Yorke stood alone, surrounded by fear.

It was not a new experience.

He let the blood sink into him. He felt the hunger stir and twist at him. He felt the vampire stretch along his nerves and sinews. One more taste and the muscles would tense for the leap, the attack, the rush of blood down his throat. There would be no more taste. Hal had what he needed.

He blinked. His black stone eyes returned to hazel and his fangs receded. He found Lena watching him as she trembled in pain from the healing he knew would consume her time and her focus. She needed him to be at his best, not his worst. If only the two weren’t so closely tied together.

Hal moved toward the hospital where she knelt among The People. Her people. Their people, backing away from him with suspicion and terror. This place was dangerous for him now.

Lena saw him coming and called out to The People, words of reassurance that this vampire wouldn’t turn against them.

“The Hunter is my consort, here to protect you. He will not harm you. He will only hunt the enemies of The People. The Hunter stands with me.”

Lena nodded toward Hal as she used the name she’d given him. Hal recognized it as a title and thought he should ask her what it meant, later, when the crisis was over. He saw suspicion diminish to wariness and terror diminish to fear. In a few of the strongest People he saw respect and even a glimmer of pride. Apparently Lena had offered them an affiliation with him, and this tribe knew enough of vampires to recognize his value. Those who hunted to survive would appreciate a vampire’s skill set.

Hal knew this woman, the Protector. He’d listened to stories of this place and these people. She’d spoken little of her own battles here, only enough to let him know the kinds of threats she’d destroyed. Animals larger and more brutal than any animals should be. Humans who threatened massacre and slavery. Vampires. Hal had been surprised to hear that. Her battles predated Mr. Snow’s arrival on the continent and suggested that Snow’s lineage was not the only family of vampires in existence. Hal hadn’t considered the possibility until Lena had mentioned it.

Hal spoke to his partner.

“I have it now. I can track it. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced, but it comes unfiltered. No binding agents. Water would be the most effective means of dispersing it.”

“We put in a well with a solar-powered pump. Look there.”

Hal found Heitor watching him. “Bring me water.”

A sip confirmed his belief. “Is this what you’re giving them?” Hal gestured toward the sick.

“Of course. It is the only clean water source we have.”

“It’s poisoned. Get rid of it. Call for water from the nearest perimeter station. Then take me to the well.”

Heitor used his two-way radio to alert the rest of the team to the news. Hal spoke briefly to Dr. Paredes. The physician watched him carefully, and Hal noticed what looked like a wooden spearhead on the lab table near the good doctor. It hadn’t been there previously.

“You know what I am?” Hal nodded to the ready-made stake, slightly amused. “I’m one of the oldest of my species; much too smart and much too quick for you, doctor. Set aside your fear and understand that we are here for the same purpose.”

“I heard Heitor. You believe the water is poisoned. We found nothing.”

“I know it is poisoned. It is nearly indistinguishable and unlike anything I’ve encountered.”

“Then what can I do? I can’t help them!” Dr. Paredes wasn’t a man who accepted limitations. “I can’t even give them a drink of water!”

“Do what you can. Remove all water from this place. Gather all vessels so they can be cleaned. Let us do the rest.”

Hal followed Heitor to the well. It was neatly enclosed in a small block building in the middle of a clearing. There were solar panels mounted on the roof and a sturdy pole was sunk into the ground nearby. The pole extended through the canopy of foliage into the sun, and Hal assumed there were more solar panels at its top.

“Is there a mechanic with the team today?” Hal asked.

“I do maintenance on the pump,” Heitor said. “What do you need?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Hal replied. “Show me.”

Hal walked the exterior perimeter of the building but found nothing useful. The number of scent trails around the outside of the wellhouse was too great and indicated that numerous people passed by this place regularly. Once inside the wellhouse things got much clearer. Very few people had access to the building, a simple truth proven by the locked door and Heitor’s keyring.

“I have keys to this and three other wellhouses in the reserve,” the young mechanic said. “Maintenance is part of my job.”

Hal entered first. It was a square space with a pump set in an enclosed housing in the center of the room. Two pipes ran from the pump housing through the exterior walls—a large one that led to multiple spigots outside and a smaller one on the opposite side, pointing away from the village.

Hal took a minute to breathe deep and note the individual scents. He found Heitor’s. He found one that belonged to someone among The People.

He found one other. Recent. Familiar. A member of the medical team. Someone he’d passed close to in the last few minutes. Someone who would have no reason to be in the wellhouse. The poisoner was here.

Hal brought Heitor into the wellhouse and watched as the mechanic turned off the water and opened up the pump. It took him a few minutes to find the poison dispenser in the main line. It was small, the size of a tea infuser one would use to brew a cup with loose leaf tea. It looked innocuous. It was nearly empty. Heitor wrapped it in a shop towel and resealed the water line.

“We have a diverter. After maintenance I always flush the line through the diverter. It runs down the hill away from the village,” Heitor said. “In this case the diverter may serve better as a clean water supply line while the main line is flushed to remove the poison.”

Hal liked the plan and gave Heitor his approval. “Good. I’ll take this to Dr. Paredes.” He held up the towel-wrapped poison dispenser.

Hal gave the poison sample to the doctor. It wouldn’t do any good in their current situation, but a chemical breakdown and antidote could be useful in the future. Then Hal went to Lena.

The People had brought a raised pallet and cushions for her, so she could be as comfortable as possible while healing them. There was no fighting for her attention, no press to be the next one to receive her touch. Instead The People worked together to bring their Protector their most fragile members. Those who were healed rested quietly or helped their fellows as they were able.

Hal saw Lena’s influence in this village and in the tribe she protected. He saw both gentleness and strength among The People. He saw courage and kindness, and a blending of ancient and modern that sat easily here. He saw respect for the old ways in the dwellings, weapons, and artwork. He saw cast iron cooking pots that worked well over open fires. He saw no rubbish or broken bits of the useless trivia that fills so many modern homes.

He sat next to Lena on the pallet and held her in his arms. She leaned back into his strength and rested against him as pain and fever washed over her again and again. Hal needed her contact to stabilize himself after his exposure to blood, as he knew he would. He was happy to offer her some comfort in return for all she gave him.

He kissed the side of her brow and spoke softly of what he’d found. “The poison has been removed. The water line is being flushed and clean water gathered so vessels can be washed and water restored to The People.”

“Thank you.”

“The poisoner is here. An employee. I have the scent.”

“I wondered. It grieves me, but—“ She gasped as another healing worked through her body. “—it makes sense. Who else would have access to this place?”

Hal kissed the side of her head again and stroked her arm gently. “He very likely planned to observe the success of his endeavor, my lady. Now he observes its failure. He must stay, as part of the team. Leaving would raise suspicion. I’ll find him.”

“I have a few good candidates, based on what I see.”

Lena seldom spoke of her unique perspective on humanity. She’d described blessings and curses to Hal once, as they walked along the waterfront on Barry Island. He’d explained the extra information his acute senses gave him about each individual they encountered. She had done the same.

The young woman standing alone, watching the water without seeing anything. Hal heard the second heartbeat that told him she was with child. Her scent was mingled with the smell of two men on her body. Gingerroot and chamomile lingered in the air as well, herbal remedies for morning sickness. He told Lena that the herbs would be in her blood, the gingerroot adding fire to her rich flavor. The chamomile wouldn’t calm the vampire as it did humans.

Lena described the fragrant garlands draped over the young woman, blessings of love and joy given her by people who loved her dearly. One was the father of her child. The other was her own father. Lena said the nature of the blessings helped her understand their sources.

She’d described curses too, other than the vampire and werewolf curses. Black or grey, sometimes red, formless entities that hung from humans and watched for the chance to damage their hosts; damage but not destroy. Sometimes they lay over objects as well—a weapon used to commit murder, or a building where evil deeds had free rein.

The existence of these things explained what Hal had thought was intuition on his part, a sixth sense that told him when he could display his own vices. It was evil recognizing evil. He wondered at times how Lena could tolerate living in a world with so few secrets and so much blatant horror. But she’d never seen the world through human eyes, so she didn’t know the ignorance he had known as a human.

Hal was thankful that vampire senses only took him so far into the world in which Lena dwelt. Madness lurked in the shadows along with knowledge of unseen things too powerful to accept. The fact that she could see blessings and angels did little to balance out the darkness, in Hal’s opinion. Danger waited in the darkness, not in the light.

Hal recognized the irony of his position. To humans who knew about vampires _he_ was the greatest danger waiting in the darkness.

Now he listened as Lena spoke haltingly between healings. With each healing the fever and pain swept through her and was gone in a matter of seconds. Those seconds made Hal Yorke angry. They made him determined to destroy all who had a hand in bringing poison to The People and distress to his lady.

The doctor was a good man, as were most of the employees present. Lena gave physical descriptions of the few Hal needed to watch closely. Even if they weren’t involved they were dangerous. Avarice. Lust. A murderous inclination. Human nature turned on the same few cogs, age after age.

“What of Heitor, the young mechanic?” he asked. “He seems to be a good man, but there is something alien in his scent. Not entirely human.”

“Yes, he’s a good man. But the shadow of the jaguar covers him.”

“The jaguar? You mean a curse like the wolf you see on Tom?”

“Yes. Not as potent. Easily controlled.” She needed a moment. “The jaguar hunts when bidden by its host.”

“I didn’t know such a thing existed,” Hal said. “Is it a breakable curse?”

“Of course. It didn’t come from my brother.” Lena’s bitterness was so clear that some of her people moved away from her. They didn’t need to understand the language to recognize her distress. They loved their Protector but their legends told them to fear her as well.

Hal was stable and had Lena’s insight into the humans who moved around them. He hated to leave her, but wanted to finish the job he’d started.

“I should begin the hunt, my lady,” Hal said.

“Can you manifest first? I told them you hunt only their enemies. I would have them hear my orders for you, so they know you move on their behalf.”

“As you wish.” Hal stood and manifested. Through the vampire’s darkened gaze he saw her smile at him as he knelt on one knee before her. She set a hand on top of his head and gave her command in the language of The People. Hal needed no translation; he knew her well enough to know what she wanted from him.

“Hunter. Find the enemy of The People. Learn all he knows. Learn who sent him and why. Destroy him. Bring me his knowledge. Then we will hunt together.”

Hal rose to his feet.

“Choose your weapon,” Lena said in the language he understood.

“I need only a rope.”

A coil of rope appeared in her hand. It gave off the same soft light as all of her weapons. Hal hung it over his head and one shoulder, turned from her, and went hunting.

 


	10. History Repeating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to Whimsyfox and Saemay for help and encouragement.

Humanity breathes in order to survive. Each individual chest cavity expands and contracts with each life-giving breath. Communities, cultures, and civilizations breathe as well; they expand their reach into the world and contract as their reach extends beyond their ability to sustain it. Inanna had seen it, the natural rhythm of human existence. She had witnessed it countless times during the course of her long life among humankind.  

Ambition. Greed. Entitlement. War. Carried in the breath. As much as Inanna wanted stasis for those peoples she allowed into her heart, she knew such a thing is impossible for humans. Humans breathe. Stasis only comes with death.

Inanna didn’t protect her peoples from the natural rhythm of their existence, she protected them from monsters. As peoples she loved grew into civilizations she couldn’t respect, Inanna watched them follow the natural rhythm of breath, into expansion, contraction, and collapse.

The peoples who wanted peace rather than power remained in her heart. She cherished the tribes and communities that found happiness simply in surviving. The natural world breathes as well, and some people adjust their own breath to the world rather than trying to force the world to change.

During her dark time, when she was chained in the depths of the earth by her own family following her attempted murder of Hal Yorke, Inanna was unable to protect her peoples. Buried in lightless stone and her own hatred, she raged and fought her shackles. Her efforts shook the mountains and sent humans running for cover. When she was able to think again, Inanna thought of her peoples.

When her grandfather came with offers of water, food, and freedom, she asked him to watch over her peoples instead. When he refused to guard her peoples, Inanna refused food and water. It was a battle of wills that lasted until Raphael could no longer accept the skeletal creature who had once been his grandchild. He could no longer watch the human body that housed her disintegrate as she survived on fury and her own immortality.

He caused a spring of fresh water to run through the cave. He placed manna within reach. He gave his word to guard the tribes and communities she loved, and only then did Inanna drink. Raphael knew at that moment—the plan to hold her captive until she forgave the vampire who’d slaughtered her family would never work. Her will was unshakable. He knew he would need to find another way to heal his granddaughter’s broken heart and damaged soul.

A few centuries aren’t that long to wait, for creatures who live beyond time. Raphael waited and watched the vampire Yorke pillage humanity as he grew into a legend. Raphael watched the man wrestle the vampire into submission time after time. Those breaths, expansion of the man, contraction of the vampire, gave Raphael hope for his granddaughter’s happiness.

***

In time-bound present day Brazil, Hal Yorke needed to let man and vampire breathe together in order to serve his lady and their people. He needed an impossibility. But then, his existence was itself an impossibility—an animated corpse stronger than any living human. A fleshy bag of other people’s blood that somehow flourished for decades without refreshing its contents. A man without a soul, driven by cowardice and bloodlust into a sick parody of human existence. A vampire without equal, loved by a peerless woman.

Perhaps the impossibility she believed in and he hoped for could become real after all. One being controlled by one mind and heart. One being in allegiance with _her_. Lena. Inanna. Protector. Immortal. His woman.

Hal Yorke loved the power of the vampire. He loved the speed and strength, the finely-tuned senses, the mental acuity. A seasoned vampire who knows how to use his abilities can move faster than humanly possible, both physically and mentally. In thought, in decision-making, the synapses fire to drive the body onward. The body only moves as quickly as the mind commands. The vampire’s greatest weapon isn’t the fangs, it isn’t the strength—it’s the mind.

The vampire’s greatest challenge is forcing clarity into a mind consumed by blood.

Hal was a great vampire. Not just good at it. Great. How else could he command armies and build up principalities? How else could he sit at Mr. Snow’s right hand? It takes more than intimidation and reckless slaughter to be great. It takes control and clarity, to know when to use intimidation, to know when to slaughter. To recognize that blood isn’t always the most important thing.

Mr. Snow had taught him that. The old Master had taught Hal many things, details of life as an Old One not found in the ‘guidebook’ of his lectures and assignments. Mr. Snow had demonstrated skills beyond what Hal thought were possible for any creature shaped by a human heritage.

The lessons had begun the day he took Hal to the exercise yard where his horses, primarily racing stock, were being worked. Hal’s surrogate father seldom chose to explain his actions, so when he positioned the two of them alongside a track, Hal thought Mr. Snow was testing his resolve. He expected to have a horse run at him, and he determined not to flinch. But when the gorgeous dark bay gelding raced past them, its rider tight against its back, Mr. Snow appeared to flinch. The movement caught Hal’s eye. What he saw astounded him.

The old vampire held the horse’s heart in his hand. He’d plucked it from the animal’s body as it ran past at full speed. Hal moved his stare from the heart to the now-heartless animal and saw the wound in its side, the veins and a bit of lung protruding, as the horse stumbled, collapsed, and died.

“An Old One is limited only by his own unwillingness to reach for omnipotence,” Mr. Snow had said. “Assume that you are more intelligent and more powerful than any opponent, because you are. Assume that you can move more quickly than any living thing, because you can.”

“What of werewolves?” Hal had asked.

The old Master had smiled a grotesque smile. “Hunt with me on the next full moon.”

 The two of them had ridden out at dusk, armed with heavy swords. They wore leather water-proofed with pig fat to protect themselves from blood splatter, per Mr. Snow’s orders. His grin when he said they’d be the bait _and_ the trap had turned Hal’s stomach.

They had returned shortly after sunup with a half-dozen werewolf heads, frozen in that transitory state when severed from the wolves they’d hunted. Beheading a live werewolf is a near-impossibility, a stroke of pure luck for most creatures. Beheading six live werewolves had created a legend among vampires. Neither Mr. Snow nor Hal had spoken of the details of their night. They didn’t need to. The heads were proof as well as trophies to put on display.

There was further proof of battle for those vampires who scurried close enough to the new young hero to see it. It had taken a couple of weeks for the myriad tiny burns to heal from the exposed skin at the base of Hal’s neck, a bit of his jawline, and a piece of forearm where his sleeve had been torn away by huge claws. Blood spray. Werewolf blood spray, the blood of their victims. They had been covered with it upon their return.  

Hal never questioned Mr. Snow again. When the old Master advised him to take care not to reveal himself to witnesses, Hal listened. Mystery has power, and rumor and myth go a long way when dealing with ignorant, superstitious subjects, both human and vampire. Better to let them see the results of his activities and conjure up their own stories.

Among the Old Ones there was a hierarchy and political intrigue; the Old Man enjoyed the drama. That’s one reason he sent Hal to collect the tribute owed him by a landowner who’d declined to pay. Hal Yorke, recently transformed into an Old One and not in line for any sort of honor. Mr. Snow offered him the chance to claim the property as his own, once he dispatched the landowner who thought himself a lord.

Hal had set out immediately, taking only time enough to order his dozen soldiers to follow him ‘at a speed they found convenient’. He gave the command while his horse was saddled for the ride. His troops found the horse, tethered to a tree and recovering from exhaustion, miles down the dirt track that served as a road. They brought it along on the two-day trip to the fortified stone structure that locals in the area called ‘the castle’. The stone house had a deep cistern for water, storerooms for grain and other foodstuffs, cellars for wine, and a stable for livestock, all surrounded by an 8-foot wall and enclosed by a sturdy gate. It was formidable enough to serve as a fortress and could protect the landowner’s family and their servants from raiders and brigands of all sorts.

It did not protect them from the lone vampire who strolled casually up to the gate and demanded entry late one afternoon.

As Hal’s troops approached the next day, wearing his livery and flying his flag, they saw peasants in the fields cross themselves and fall on their faces in terror. They didn’t even bother to run or hide. Bodies and pieces of bodies lay unattended in the dirt around the wide-open gate. More bodies hung over the top of the wall and off the back of the walkway that encircled its interior—once guards and soldiers, now food for the vultures that circled in multiplying numbers overhead. Broken pieces of dead humanity greeted the troops everywhere they looked.

Hal’s newly-created vampire servants were already busy, the men collecting Mr. Snow’s tribute and the women cleaning the former master’s chambers and tailoring his best clothes to fit their new lord. The prettiest ones were preparing a large bath, where they would scrub him clean and entertain him as he chose.

Hal was in the great hall, where the corpulent body of the landowner still sat in his seat of honor at the head of a banquet table. The landowner’s head sat on his plate, staring back at him. Hal was sprawled across the table, nearly naked and caked with gore, raping and drinking a young woman amidst piles of ravaged bodies. He looked bored. It was an affectation put on for his men; Hal knew they’d talk about what they were seeing.

He enjoyed the frightened, awestruck expressions on the faces of his troops. “Let’s put this down to the plague,” he said with a smile.

The symbol was painted on the gate, the bonfire lit, with bodies and wood and straw burning together through the night and the following days. Some of Hal’s troops collected Mr. Snow’s tribute in gold, grain, and humans, which they delivered with the story. Mr. Snow accepted the tribute and nodded his approval of the story. Hal Yorke had taken care of things just as the old vampire had hoped. He had been set to a task and had delivered as expected.

Hal remained in his new home and ‘recuperated’ from the stress of his single-handed conquest in his own fashion. There was a price to pay for pushing himself beyond the range of normal vampire exertion. The price was blood.

Frightening quantities of fresh blood restored Hal during and after his infrequent forays into the realm of legendary vampire. He told himself the additional blood wasn’t necessary, merely helpful. And with so many victims available, why inconvenience himself? Mr. Snow might prefer the slow sip, the long nap, the ennui of his existence. Hal wanted immediate relief from any hint of weakness; he wanted muscle and sinew and thought that ran lightning-quick. 

He also wanted to avoid the inconvenient truth that vampires need blood they can no longer produce. He didn’t want to see himself as a parasite—much better to be a predator. But the truth about vampires is simply this: human blood powers the vampire. The more active the vampire is, the more blood he needs.

A vampire can live for decades without fresh blood if he reserves his strength and remains in the weakened guise of a human. Old blood fills the cells and keeps the body functioning well enough to survive. But that old blood wears out quickly and becomes as useless as water when a vampire chooses to live as a vampire. Fresh blood, hot with life, keeps the vampire at the peak of his vigor mentally and physically. When Hal performed legendary feats, his cavalier slaughter of whole communities wasn’t merely sport. He needed the blood to keep up his strength.  

As he left Lena and turned to the task she’d given him, Hal thought of Mr. Snow. He recalled the lessons his master had taught the arrogant, charming young man who’d caught his fancy. Private lessons reserved for a select few. Hal wondered how much, if anything, Lena knew about those lessons and the attributes Hal had discovered and cultivated within himself.

He had been set on the hunt, not as a human, but as a vampire. Hal Yorke wasn’t just a vampire, though. He was an Old One, and if he was careful he could use some small measure of his skills to serve his lady. He could find the balance between their need for justice and his need for blood. He could find a way for the man and the vampire to work together as one.

No longer fettered by the need to assume the weakened guise of a mere man, he moved more swiftly than even the fastest human could conceive of running. Hal slipped among the humans without pause until he reached the edge of the clearing, where he caught the scent of his prey.

The poisoner, dressed in the uniform of a security guard, eased into the wild foliage that surrounded the village. He was trying to escape. Hal stopped so abruptly that he seemed to materialize out of thin air. He locked eyes with the man, cold black overpowering terrified brown. He smiled a cruel, fanged smile. The man turned in a panic and began to force his way deeper into the growth that would do nothing to protect him.

Hal smelled Heitor and turned to see the young man behind him, watching and wary. Perhaps he’d been looking for the poisoner as well, using his own finely-tuned senses to track the man. Heitor was worth bringing along, even if it meant slowing down to accommodate him.

Hal turned to the mechanic. “Hunt with me. We want him away from the village.”

Hal followed the poisoner at a comfortable distance until he thought the man was far enough away from The People. He didn’t want the interrogation to be interrupted. He saw a shadow slipping through the dense foliage off to his right. Not the movements of a man, but of a big cat.

Hal easily caught up with the poisoner and knocked him unconscious with a single strike to the solar plexus. He trussed him up in Lena’s rope and hauled him up the largest tree he could find. Moving an unconscious person was much like moving a corpse, which was a skill Hal had acquired centuries ago. Just like riding a bicycle, it came right back when needed.

Starting the process was a bit tricky, as the tree was huge beyond anything Hal had climbed before, but he found a foothold and sturdy vines, and began hauling his prisoner off the ground. He climbed toward the canopy with the unconscious man dangling feet up and head down just beneath him. His prisoner bumped against the trunk and occasionally got tangled in the vines, but a quick tug on the rope sufficed to untangle the man most of the time. A kick to whatever body part was stuck worked too.

When he looked to the ground to judge how high he’d climbed, Hal saw the jaguar prowling under the tree.

“In your own time,” he called down to it.

The jaguar leaped and began climbing the tree. It caught up with Hal and continued. It was a beautiful creature, especially as it stretched out on a limb and watched him pass. The jaguar swatted lazily at the trussed-up prisoner as he dangled nearby.

_Cat_ , thought Hal. _Can’t help himself._   

“Mind the claws,” he chastised the jaguar gently. “No blood, not yet. I’d rather not be distracted.”

Hal reached a good solid limb about 60 feet off the jungle floor and decided he’d gone far enough. He pulled the prisoner onto the limb, untied the rope from around his own waist, and tossed it up and over another limb above them. Hal hauled on the rope until his prisoner hung between the limbs, then tied the end securely. Finally he sat down and leaned against the tree trunk.

“Bit out of shape,” he said to the jaguar as it leaped and climbed easily from limb to limb until it met and passed him again. “I’m nearly winded. Perhaps it’s the unusually high humidity,” he continued as the big cat stretched out on the limb from which their prisoner was hung. “It feels as though I’m swimming through this jungle air.”

The jaguar transformed into a nude Heitor. He seemed comfortable with his nakedness as he adjusted to lounge easily on the limb above Hal. Well, Heitor had nothing to feel uncomfortable about, Hal noted. In fact, if Hal weren’t firmly Lena-sexual these days Heitor would very likely become a delightful playmate for the vampire, as long as he promised to keep the claws sheathed. The marks of the jaguar, raking across a thigh, were barely a distraction.

“How did you know what I am?” Heitor asked.

“I could tell by your scent that you weren’t entirely human. Lena, the Protector, gave me the details. She sees the world beyond our physical one.”

“What is your plan for this—“ Heitor casually kicked their prisoner “—beast?”

“To learn all we can about who sent him and why. And where I can find them. Then I thought to leave him in your tender embrace.”

Hal smirked at the young mechanic. He could tell Heitor liked the idea of dealing with the poisoner personally rather than returning him to his fellow security guards in the village. It was wise to avoid the involvement of anyone employed by This Precious Earth until they knew what and who they were dealing with. As of yet, they couldn’t be sure how far the corruption had spread.

“You won’t join me?” Heitor asked.

“No. Sadly, I must decline. Blood presents me with too great a distraction, and my focus must remain elsewhere for now.”

Hal slapped their prisoner’s face gently and cajoled him awake.  Heitor returned to jaguar form and waited for the man to realize that he was caught between a rock and a hard place, so to speak. Lethal, fanged, rock and hard place.

Hal didn’t speak Brazilian Portuguese per se; he spoke Castilian Spanish fluently and Portuguese barely. His foundation in the Romance languages helped him with the rudimentary language usage he needed while traveling and he employed translators when necessary. He listened to the frantic, hysterical babbling of their prisoner and thought he could piece together the content of said babbling.

_Prayer and supplication,_ Hal thought. _Appropriate, but hardly useful._  

Hal tried to redirect, but it was useless. More prayer and supplication. Funny how evil men turn religious in the last moments of their lives. Hal assumed it didn’t help; he couldn’t imagine a heaven full of last-minute saints.

Finally Hal asked Heitor for assistance, in human form. The mechanic’s transformation only panicked their prisoner further, and they let him run his course until he was out of breath and words. Then Heitor began to question him, quietly, without threats or promises, and the prisoner answered. It turned out that he wasn’t a particularly brave man, just a particularly greedy one.

Clear-cutting. Deforestation. Agribusiness. A large company was bent on logging the old growth forest protected by This Precious Earth, and bringing in a soy plantation after the valuable timber had been cleared.  The company couldn’t bribe or bully its way into getting permission from the trust, so it chose Plan B. Kill the indigenous people and remove the reason for all the security and all of those perimeter guards. It was working outside the reserve now, right up to the border. Possibly over the border, if the right employees had been successfully coerced to look the other way.

Hal got the coordinates of the worksite and as many names as the poor terrified upside-down bastard could recall, and decided he was finished. He lowered their prisoner onto the limb beside him and called Lena’s rope off the man, who scrambled to keep from falling to his death. Hal hung the coiled rope over his head and a shoulder and nodded to Heitor.

“Give me a minute. As I said, blood is a distraction.”

Heitor nodded, a hungry smile stretching across his face. Hal dropped effortlessly down the tree until he reached the lowest limb. He considered shimmying down the vines he’d used on the way up, but chose not to bother. He slipped off the limb as if he was pushing off a low wall and landed on the ground. Hal returned to the village as quickly as he could. When he heard the growl of a big cat and the scream that ended in gurgling, Hal knew Heitor had dealt with the poisoner.

He had a moment of jealousy, but it passed. A breakable curse, the ability to change at will and kill without blood consuming him—Heitor was fortunate. But Hal knew he wouldn’t trade places with Heitor, no matter how fortunate the young man was, because Heitor had limitations that Hal Yorke couldn’t accept. Not as long as Lena was in his life.

Lena didn’t need a man like Heitor. She needed a partner with nearly unlimited stamina, a mind that worked as quickly as her own, and a potentially limitless life span. She needed business acumen and experience. She needed a warrior and a commander of the field. She needed Hal.

At the moment she needed Hal to put his arms around her and let her rest against him as she finished healing The People. He was happy to do so.

“Tell me what you learned,” she murmured as she settled against him.

“Later, my lady. When you’ve finished here and have rested.” Hal kissed the side of her face to mitigate his refusal to do as she asked.

“I’m fine. You worry too much.” But Lena smiled at him, a smile that said she was happy he wanted to take care of her.

“Perhaps I do,” Hal said. “But you are the only one who knows the location of the treasure we seek. It’s in my best interest to keep you healthy.”

Lena chuckled softly at the teasing tone of voice he used. Hal knew exactly what she needed; thoughtfulness with a light touch.

***

It was evening, after food and rest, when Lena asked Hal what he had learned from the poisoner. His news wasn’t a surprise; deforestation and large-scale agriculture was the single greatest threat to the rain forest. Lena had hoped her firmly-drawn borders and tight security would protect the reserve from the devastation, and she had prepared her border guards for the occasional violent skirmish with criminals who weren’t above killing to claim the property they wanted.

One can only prepare so much for corruption, however. Like rot at the apple’s core, it is sometimes impossible to discern until irreparable damage has been done. Now Lena was faced with the need for immediate action on a scale that would not only end the attack on her property and people, but would also create a legend that would keep the reserve safe for an extended period. She explained the need to Hal, and he agreed.

“So, you intend another rampage, but with a tighter focus. No worldwide rage this time?” he asked. They were sitting in a beautifully bedecked one-room structure, raised on stilts off the ground. The Protector’s quarters were kept ready for her at all times, so they were surrounded by flowers and small gifts and tokens. It was an odd juxtaposition of place and purpose.

“That’s the idea, yes,” Lena explained. “Begin with the site you’ve discovered, investigate and see if we can learn of any other logging sites threatening the reserve. And learn the location of the home office of the company involved and destroy that as well. I can’t believe someone had the gall to name it Verdant Opportunity.”

“Someone has a twisted sense of humor,” Hal agreed. “You said ‘we’ but I can’t help but wonder. Why include me? Humans will be there, which puts me at risk of exposure to blood. And honestly, you’re quite capable of mass destruction without any help. You don’t need me for that.”

“No, but I need you to temper me, Hal. I need you to tell me when it’s enough.”

“I’m not the best choice for that role, my lady. Temperance isn’t my strong suit.”

“It isn’t the vampire’s strong suit, but you, as a man, understand restraint better than anyone I’ve ever known. I believe I can trust you to help me with this, Hal. Besides, you’re the only one on earth I’ll listen to when I’m enraged, and believe me, when I see what’s happening, I’ll go into a rage. I’ll need to, in order to do what must be done.”

Lena took his hand and held it for a moment before speaking further. “There are rain forests around the world, and destruction of resources is ongoing. Once I focus on that particular type of evil I will see beyond this attack on this reserve. I will see it all, and I will be led to destroy all who participate in it. Hal, I fear that I may do more harm than good. There are, I believe, good people involved as well as bad. It is a complex issue, and one I haven’t studied enough to truly understand. I need you with me. I need you to tell me when it’s time to come home.”

“Do you perhaps also need to make sure _I_ don’t go astray while you are absent?” Hal asked the question delicately.

“There is that concern as well,” Lena admitted. “We don’t know what could happen if I leave you alone too long. We know the temptation of blood is still there. We’ve seen it.”

“Very well, my lady. I shall join you and do my best to bring you back safely.” Hal mocked them both gently, one corner of his mouth lifting at the silliness of his words. That she could need his protection! Then he kissed the hand that held his.

“I’d prefer to be more than an observer, however. Is there something more I can do? Perhaps you have eternal rocket launchers or a Panzerkampfwagen among your arsenal? I could destroy equipment while you focus on people.”

He couldn’t keep the grin from his face, and she laughed at the notion as well, that she could pull something that large from her pocket. Of course, she’d never tried it.

“I have no use for rocket launchers or tanks, smartass,” Lena said, “and we need to have a chat about your historic affiliation with the Nazi Party. But we do keep weapons in armories along the perimeter, in case of an attack. There’s not much law in this area beyond what we provide for ourselves. We’ll stop and see what we can find for you to play with. It’s been a while since you’ve blown anything up, after all.”

“My last attempt was unsuccessful,” Hal said. “In truth, I haven’t handled modern weaponry since the Second World War, other than the occasional firearm. I’d love to give it a go.”

A brief stop at an armory owned by This Precious Earth provided Hal with a duffel bag full of hand-held explosives devised from C-4, complete with timers preset for 30 seconds. He just had to lock the detonators into position and push a button to activate the devices. He thought they’d work well when placed on the fuel tanks of whatever bulldozers, tree cutters, and logging trucks might be in the vicinity.

Hal wanted to bring along a rocket launcher as well, primarily because the nickname ‘Vampir’ had been painted on the crate that housed the weapon and its warheads. But the Russian-made RPG-29 was unwieldy at over 3 feet long unassembled, and it came with instructions that put Hal off a bit, even though he’d studied Russian, as a lark, so he could read Dostoyevsky in the original.

He was willing to try it anyway, but Lena voted against it by pointing out that she was not, in fact, a pack mule. She also pointed out that by the time he got the thing put together and loaded she would very likely be finished destroying everything in the area, so he’d have nothing left to shoot at. Hal declared her a poor sport but agreed to leave the Vampir behind.

He did bring along a modern assault rifle and several ammunition clips because they agreed that, should he happen across any humans, long-range murder was a wiser choice than close quarters combat.

“This is quite impressive, as firearms go,” Hal said as he admired the M4. “I’d imagine it is much more efficient than my old Tommy gun.”

“Your enthusiasm for this aspect of our adventure is a little bit disturbing, Hal. But since you’re interested, I’d like to point out that I chose this weapon personally for purchase by This Precious Earth,” Lena said. “It comes with an impressive number of accessories and can be set as semi or fully automatic. I don’t think you’ll need the night vision or laser sights. I’d rather you not fiddle around with the grenade launcher either, not until you’ve had some practice. I’ll get you the full set for Christmas so you can play with it all you want. How’s that?”

“I’m sensing both sarcasm and impatience in your tone, my lady. Fine. I’m finished with my shopping for now.” Hal tucked the ammunition into his duffel bag and slung the gun over a shoulder. “Care to give me a lift?”

Lena rolled her eyes at his smirk but laughed as well. She felt him settle himself against her back and murmured, “Is that a rocket in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?”

“Both.” Hal kissed her below an ear as she flicked the bola around them both to fasten him securely to her. In a moment of effervescence they were teleported to mid-air and began flying toward the coordinates he had given Lena earlier.

Hal admitted to himself that he needed to go into battle with her again. He needed to prove she could trust him. He wouldn’t turn against her this time; he wouldn’t assault her as he’d done after their battle with Hetty’s vampire horde. He’d prove his worth and show her what a legendary vampire could accomplish.

He’d manage it, somehow, without the blood.


	11. Cry 'Havoc'

_‘Havoc’ is a military command from the Middle Ages, ordering soldiers to cause chaos and to pillage._

It was a short flight to their point of attack deep in the rain forest, on the border of This Precious Earth property. Lena and Hal quickly saw lights illuminating the ongoing process of devastation, the ugly naked gash cut into the surrounding lush growth, and the end of a makeshift road that had been carved into the wilderness. Apparently around-the-clock destruction was the order of the day. Hal thought the poor greedy fools below them were about to see a kind of destruction they couldn’t imagine.

When Lena circled the site, Hal got a sense that she was studying more than human movement. He felt her growing anger, and he knew he was about to witness once again the full manifestation of her power. Hal was thankful he wasn’t the target this time. To have faced her twice and lived proved that he had more luck than any cursed being had a right to have.

As soon as they landed Lena stepped away from Hal, then smiled briefly at him and handed him a long-bladed knife in a sheath. Hal recognized it immediately. It was the first of her weapons that she’d loaned him, the knife he’d held briefly and dismissed when they were confronted by a group of vampires bent on killing him. Hetty’s plan for his assassination had come to light that afternoon at the Brecon Beacons, the day of their first tentative alliance.

Lena’s fighting ability, her leadership in the Seraphin War, her slaughter of legions of vampires, and her thwarted attempt to kill Hal had come to light that day also. She’d disguised her true power and identity even then, and Hal wondered if he would ever fully understand Lena or ever fully know her. He wondered if it was possible for anyone, even another immortal, to do so.  

“That’s in case your modern weaponry fails you. I’ll find you later,” she said tersely.

“Thank you.” Hal stuck the knife into his belt.

Lena looked to the sky, her eyes tracing the paths of demons that circled overhead, drawn by greed and corruption of the souls on the ground below. She assumed her true form as her hair rose from her head in a flame-licked mane and she began to glow with rage. She drew her swords and shot into the air like a meteor rising rather than falling to earth, an exultant scream trailing after her. As she began the lyrics he recognized from one of her bombastic heavy metal songs, Hal threw back his head and laughed.

_In the dead of the night she’ll come and take you away…_

“My god, she’s got a wicked streak!” His words carried humor and admiration. The song was a particularly absurd piece, “Queen of the Reich”*.  She was poking fun at his historic alliance with the Third Reich even as she hunted. “And yet, the lyrics are frightening apropos to the evening’s work,” he added as he watched her ascent.

He followed her chaotic whirlwind as much by sense as by sight as she attacked her first targets: those things unseen but more deadly for her than any mortal thing. The mortals were less able to escape and would become her second point of attack.

He watched for a few moments, drawn to her as always, then took a breath and headed toward his own target. They’d seen a fleet of parked machinery in a cleared space. He’d begin there. Perhaps the explosions would warn humans away from those vehicles currently in operation and he could destroy them without risking exposure to blood.

Hal readied the M4 for use if needed and got the first hand-held explosive. A simple pressing together of two parts, the push of a button, and attachment—the things even had magnets to hold them in place. He decided to race himself through the rows of parked trucks and heavy equipment and see how long it took to prepare them all for demolition. Could he reach the end of the lot before the first exploded?

He studied the types of machines briefly, each one resembling some monstrous beast, with shovel mouths and saw-toothed jaws or with great grinding tracks that tore the earth just in passing. Each type had a form, and each form had a fuel tank. Those were the soft underbellies of the beasts. Hal smiled as he previewed his attack in his mind. More than two dozen vehicles set to explode in less than 30 seconds. He could do it, then watch his handiwork as they detonated with near clockwork precision. The notion tickled him.

He glanced skyward to see Lena’s relentless, twisting spirals. She was going to love this. He checked his watch, took a deep breath, and began to move.

The quick mind, nimble fingers, smooth stretch and snap of muscle and sinew—the vampire raced the clock, running from machine to machine, at times simply leaping from one to the next. He landed precisely; he swerved and ducked gracefully around, under, and between the hulking machines. So many victims, so little time.

He’d not played the game quite like this before, but what a glorious game it was! Rather than blood-spattered corpses Hal left the suspense of a pregnant pause in his wake. The uncertainty of his success added a delicious drama that heightened his joy and focused his attack. He leaped from the last bulldozer and checked his watch.

29 seconds. Perfect.

Hal bowed deeply as if to an eager audience as the first logging truck exploded. He ran down the road toward current logging activity to the rhythm of destruction, smiling. When he could no longer resist, he turned to watch the growing conflagration. It was a thing of thunderous, violent beauty.

It prevented him from hearing the human running toward him until the man was nearly upon him. But honestly, what kind of fool runs _toward_ something like that? The kind of fool who deserves to die.

Hal answered his own question as he drew Lena’s knife and sliced the man into pieces with one effortless pass through a shoulder and out his other side, splitting his spine and upper ribs. It was instinct combined with old habits, sweetened by a moment of delight at the quality of his weapon.

The man’s astonished face fell with his head; his severed arm dropped.

Blood in the air. Blood on the vampire.

Blood flowed from the man’s damaged aorta until Hal caught the collapsing corpse in his arms and buried his face in the exposed chest cavity, pushing aside the severed flesh to tear the vessel apart. He gulped down the hot blood, reveling in the exquisite liquid as its life force recharged him. The hunger roared through him as the vampire celebrated its release.

Hal wrapped a hand around the man’s dying heart, exposed in its decimated ribcage, and squeezed the blood through it until the flow weakened. He pulled the heart from his victim and tore into it as he resumed his race toward his next targets. Blood wasn’t the goal; blood was the means to an end.

Energized, Hal ran eagerly toward the machines and their humans, toward demolition and death. His blood-soaked lady wanted a legendary slaughter. He could provide one.

Inanna, Nephilim and warrior, spun into the air with drawn swords and an exultant scream, plowing through a crowd of demons that dispersed into thin black ash as she sliced and skewered them. She chased them across the sky, rejoicing in her freedom. No need to disguise her actions or hide from the humans below. Let them watch and wonder; let them fear her if they were wise enough. Most of them would die soon anyway, and the few witnesses she allowed would have a terrifying story to tell.

Hal’s synchronized explosions tore into the air and Inanna paused, watching. Flames and clouds rolled upward as metal flew. It reminded her of Independence Day celebrations, 4th of July fireworks and children lighting a string of firecrackers and running away to safety as the little explosions popped and snapped. The smell was diesel and burning rubber instead of gunpowder and barbecue; the smoke was much thicker than fireworks and laughter, the noise exponentially louder. The sense of freedom was much the same.

Inanna spread her wings and arms and hovered, a fixed flame in the sky. She savored the ash around her, the smoke and fire below her, the triumph over her enemies already begun.

Suddenly she felt a twisting knot in her being and knew it was her soul. Hal. Not injured, not threatened. Fallen. The vampire had risen and its evil repelled the piece of her soul that Hal carried.

This was her fault.

Very well. The vampire called out for blood, and she would answer that call. Blood they would have—the blood of their enemies. She focused again, found the stench of fear and greed and anger pouring from evil-minded humans below, and dove to destroy them.

No weapons, no clean kills. These humans needed a primitive kind of death, a death that would speak of horrors to the living left behind. She swept into the disorganized encampment and snatched a man from the ground, ripped off his head with one hand and tore off his sternum and ribs with the other. The body landed with a fleshy plop, the other pieces flew. Inanna held the man’s heart in her hand. She focused the heat of her rage and it instantly incinerated. She grabbed her next victim. She moved faster than sight.

The panicked humans fled as bodies and pieces of bodies fell among them, a storm of mutilation and death they couldn’t escape. They saw their fellows explode into the air and land, headless heartless corpses. Broken screams and strangled sobs rose from all around them until finally the few remaining people heard only their own whispered prayers and frantic breath.

The witnesses, two cooks, a laundress and a prostitute, stumbled from their hiding places as the great bloody angel came to earth among piles of shattered bodies. Inanna resumed the form of the Protector before she spoke.

“You were slaves here. Use your freedom to tell of what you saw. This place and the people in it belong to me. All who trespass will be destroyed.”

Distant explosions and gunfire broke the sodden stillness of the encampment. Inanna flared into her true form and was gone.

She appeared next to Hal as he fired the M4 into a group of loggers bent on stopping his demolition. He was blood-smeared and laughing, and the vampire curse covered him like a blood-soaked blanket.

“My lady! What a marvelous weapon! Have you enjoyed my fireworks display?”

Inanna discovered that she didn’t much care about the blood that covered her lover. In fact, it made things easier. She would ignore the curse and the stabbing pain in her core from the piece of her soul that he carried; as injuries received in battle, they would be addressed later. For now, she would make use of the creature Hal had become.

“Enough!” Inanna stopped him with a hand over his on the trigger as her wings spread to protect them both from the loggers’ return fire. “No more easy deaths. Set aside this thing and join me.”

She turned and flew into the midst of the group, tossing individuals into the air with a flick of her wings as she tore the first one into pieces. The heart burst into flames and ash. She caught her next victim before the first one landed.

Hal watched his fiery lover decimate the humans who threatened her people. The heat of her rage made the blood that drenched her bubble and char. Primitive slaughter, no elegant weaponry; this creature, born at the dawn of humankind, wreaked an ancient havoc. The head, the heart, torn and destroyed.

Yes, he could do that.

Hal Yorke leapt on his first victim, tore head from neck, wrenched open chest, ripped out heart. He drank swiftly, deeply, the first hot heady burst of blood, and moved on. Across the cleared spaces, under crushed and dying vegetation, into standing forest, they hunted. Within moments it was over. Or maybe it wasn’t.

Hal heard a terrified heartbeat. He turned to track it, but his lady appeared in front of him.

”No. That one is a witness,” she said. “I sense no evil in that soul.”

“Yes, my lady.” Hal bowed his acquiescence.  She extended her hand. In it she held a human heart. He watched as flames curled around it. His nostrils twitched at the tantalizing scent of roasting meat.

“A treat,” she said, “as a thank-you for a job well done. I believe it is a favorite of yours.”

Hal plucked a large thick leaf from a plant and used it as a salver on which she placed the roasted heart. They walked together down the makeshift road toward the logging encampment, the sound of explosions echoing from behind them.

“It’s a welcome treat, my lady. Or may I call you Inanna? I think it’s time we use your true name.”

“I agree. So, are there machines left to destroy?”

“I believe I’ve gotten them all. Are there humans left to destroy?”

“I’ve cleared out the encampment so I think not. Will the vampire keep from attacking me? I’d rather not begin your inevitable detox until we’re done with the night’s work.”

“The vampire has no interest in its own destruction, so as long as your blood remains beneath the skin we should be fine. I wouldn’t mind a few more of these hearts, if I can find the ones I tossed aside. I don’t have your combustive talent.”

“You catch ‘em, I’ll cook ‘em.” She grinned at him, a light-hearted expression worn on a face caked with gore. He smiled back, knowing he looked just as gruesome.

“My dear Inanna, you’re a bloody mess. I’m afraid you may have a face only a vampire could love,” he teased.

“Good thing a vampire is the only lover I’m interested in,” Inanna replied. “Find your hearts. We don’t have all night. I’ll meet you at the encampment just up the road.”

Inanna disappeared in her usual burst of effervescent air, leaving Hal to retrace his steps as quickly as he could. He retrieved the M4 and duffel bag of explosives before beginning a quick search for snacks. He found three more hearts, tucked them into a pocket of the bag, and decided that was plenty. He’d already eaten the one raw, and five was more than he usually indulged in at once. Hal took a careful bite of the heart she’d cooked for him. Just the right temperature and perfectly done. Inanna was apparently an expert at open-flame cooking, which made sense, considering her age.

Hal ate as he ran toward the encampment at full speed. Eating on the run was another old habit. He worked his way through Inanna’s usual untidy leavings, pieces of bodies this time rather than coffee grounds and toast crumbs, and quickly found the office. It was a one-room metal caravan of sorts built on a flatbed trailer and made to be towed along as the logging progressed. Inanna was rummaging through a desk in the room, leaving behind blood smears and droplets with every move.

“I’ve found some letterhead with the company logo. Looking for addresses and such. Check out the map on the wall,” she said. “I can use it to focus just on sites owned by Verdant Opportunity. Otherwise we’d spend the night chasing through the Amazon killing random loggers.”

“Another time, perhaps,” Hal suggested.

A satellite imagery map of the area showed two more logging sites. They were smaller, probably offshoots of this one. Their next targets. It would be a busy night.

“I hear distant heartbeats,” he said as he studied the map. “More witnesses?”

“Yes. They hide in the tent that served as a kitchen.”

Hal pulled the hearts from his duffel bag. “Speaking of kitchen, I found three more hearts if you’d care to roast them. The first one was delicious and perfectly done.”

“I’d be happy to,” Inanna said as she took a heart in each hand and quickly cooked them both.

Hal watched as before. Each new thing he learned about her fascinated him. “I’d already indulged in one raw on the half-shell, so to speak, so if you’d care to join me there’s enough for us both,” he said.  

“Thank you, I just might.” She noted Hal’s surprise. Apparently he’d been joking. “What? Eating the heart of your defeated enemy is an ancient and respected custom.”

“I’m aware. I didn’t think it would be one you practiced.”

“Well, it’s been a few millennia, but still. I’m not above the occasional barbarity.” Inanna smiled at her understatement. She set the cooked hearts on the desk and picked up the remaining raw heart. “I like mine medium-rare,” she said.

A quick touch of flame and the heart was ready. She ate it right away, holding it like an apple while she continued to look through the contents of the desk. Hal let his hearts cool while he scanned a computer on a separate desk in the corner. He heard a generator running quietly outside--another machine to dispatch when they were ready to leave.

“The password is ‘password.’ We aren’t dealing with geniuses here but we are dealing with English speakers, that much is clear,” he observed. “American? Some conglomerate or other? Can you teleport this back to London? I see spreadsheets and a couple of databases we should study when we have more time.”

“Good idea. Anything we can use right away?”

“Names and home addresses of several high-ranking executives. And the main office is a building in Sao Paulo. No surprise.”

Inanna joined him at the computer and glanced at the monitor. A photo of a nondescript building about 20 stories tall filled the screen. The address was displayed in a corner.

“Easy enough to find. Don’t show me anything else. I don’t want to know where these people live,” she said.

“Why not? I thought you wanted thorough retribution.”

“They may have families. Children. I’d rather not traumatise a child.”

“Of course. I hadn’t thought of that. Are we done here?” At her nod, Hal turned off the computer and unplugged it from the power supply and all attachments.

Inanna quickly teleported the computer back to their suite in London. She sent a few piles of papers as well, after she’d had a look at them. When Hal was finished with his snack, she faced him and put her hands on his shoulders at the base of his neck. She watched as the curse rippled and retreated from her, exposing her lover as he should be. As he had been for months, until this misguided adventure.

Her manner softened; Hal saw sorrow in her eyes.

“My vampire. I brought you to this.”

“I chose to drink blood in order to maintain my strength. I know we’ll have to deal with it later. No matter. You need me as I am, so here I am. Shall we fly?” He gave her a quick smile.

She hugged him instead. In the midst of a night filled with violent desecration of human life and violent destruction of property, two old warriors claimed a quiet moment. Nephilim and vampire, enemies by creation, steadied each other and themselves with their touch.

“I didn’t know,” she whispered near his ear. “I didn’t know you’d need the blood to be strong. Forgive me.”

“I would have drunk it anyway,” he whispered back. “My need is my excuse. Forgive me.”   

“Let’s go,” she said.

The bubble formed and they were gone, leaving behind the beginning of a new myth, of an angel of death and the vampire who did her bidding.

***

Their business along the perimeter of the reserve finished, appropriate horrors left behind, a few more hearts roasted and eaten, and Inanna and Hal were ready for their assault on Verdant Opportunity headquarters.

She’d been temporarily distracted after they’d finished with the third logging encampment.  Knowledge of a large operation only a few hundred miles away, and the temptation to continue on as she had begun, had nearly been too much for her. Hal had reminded her of their focus for the night with some regret that he had been given the order to do so. He was too conscientious at times, but Inanna had brought him along for a purpose, and he needed to serve that purpose.

Inanna responded immediately to his reminder that they were to focus solely on Verdant Opportunity and turned toward Sao Paulo. She brought them to ground on a mountain where they could see the city lights below. They needed a minute to strategize before their assault on the office building that housed Verdant Opportunity.

They landed in a small clearing. Hal leaned his M4 against a tree and set the duffel bag, empty of all but ammunition for the weapon, on the ground next to it. He’d made no further use of the gun but hadn’t wanted to leave it behind.

Inanna studied the sky around them and found it sufficiently empty. No watchers or spies. Their plan hadn’t been sussed out, then. She heard the words ‘sussed out’ in Tom’s voice in her head and smiled at herself. Hal wasn’t the only roommate Anglicizing her; Tom just wasn’t doing it on purpose.

She began speaking with the assumption that Hal didn’t need preliminaries in order to plan their attack. “Typically I’d take out the outliers circling the building, then hit the main body of demons,” she said. “After that I’d blow through the building to make sure there were no innocents inside before reducing it to rubble.”

“How does having me with you change that?” Hal came to stand next to her as he spoke. He looked at the sky as well, although he saw only stars and the blinking lights of a jet flying overhead.

“I’ve never carried a passenger into this kind of conflict. I don’t know what it will do to you.”

“Then leave me here and return for me when you’re finished,” Hal said calmly. It seemed like a simple decision.

Inanna’s eyes turned to his. “Will you be here when I’m finished? Or will you be hunting?”

“I’ll be here. I know better than to make you come after me, and what’s more, I’m not hungry. I’ve had plenty of treats tonight.” Hal smiled warmly at his gore-encrusted angel. She’d fed him well and had seemed to enjoy their delectable snacks nearly as much as he had.  

“I’m more concerned with your thirst than your hunger.”

“Your proximity mutes the vampire’s thirst for blood.”

“Exactly why I worry about leaving you alone. What happens if I don’t come back right away?” Inanna frowned toward the city. “What happens if _I_ can’t keep from hunting?”

“That would be bad news for us both, my dear, and for countless people as well.”

“You must stay with me. I knew that before we started, I just hadn’t thought of how to make it work.” Inanna frowned again. “I’ll need to control myself physically and emotionally. I can’t move too quickly or allow myself to overheat for fear of tearing you apart or burning you.”

“I’d prefer to avoid both of those as well,” Hal said. “I’ve seen you wear armor, and I’ve seen the shadow of armor forming over you as if waiting for you to need it. Is it possible to simply cover us both?”

“I’m not sure my armor would accept you right now. The curse, you know. And even if it did, I’d have to think about it to keep it in place. That’s the problem, Hal. These things no longer require me to think. They’ve become rote, instinctive. I’m afraid conscious thought will slow me down in battle and get us both killed.”

It was his turn to frown as he thought. She was right. Some things become rote in battle, through training and experience—that’s why a seasoned fighter is worth 10 soldiers newly-enlisted. “Maybe there’s another way. How do you blow through a building?

“I become a spear of sorts. I keep my wings close against me, extend my hands over my head if I choose, then fly through the building.”

“Sounds like classic Superman flight. It’s a bird, it’s a plane--”

“It’s your worst nightmare!” she finished, smiling against her will.

“Oh, now you’re just piling on the cliches, my dear. Isn’t that a quote from one of your absurd American movies?”  Hal smirked. “Still, what you’re describing does sound both violent and superhuman.” He added quietly, “And it makes me feel much more like Lois Lane than any kind of partner for you.”

“I never think of you in those terms.”

“You don’t have to, the parallels are obvious,” he said. “I’d feel better if I could think of some way to be helpful, or at least, not burdensome during your flight. If you fly without moving your wings, you must shift into that state where you move without physical effort.”

“Yes, I guess I do.”

“Can you keep from flaming? If it will accept me, can we wear armor while destroying the building?”

“If it will accept you, yes. I should be able to keep it in place for that. And the glowing flaming thing isn’t conducive to secretive action, so I’m used to toning it down.”

“Then pulling me apart while battling demons seems to be our only real worry.” Hal summarized their situation without emotion, although Inanna’s description of her ability to single-handedly destroy a building left him a bit shaky. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go along for that ride.

“That’s worry enough.”

“How does fighting demons compare to our dance in the Bangor cathedral in terms of movement?”

“It’s basically a more intense version. Everything is faster, the twists and turns are sharper, and there’s the chance of being torn into by fangs and claws.”

“Sounds like a few of my more interesting trysts,” Hal joked with a raised eyebrow. Then he became thoughtful. “The vampire didn’t like our dance. I remember feeling its protest in every cell of my body, until it was run to ground and surrendered. You took me with you into the music and I experienced it as you do, its substance, its scent, its taste. Perhaps experiencing combat as you do will have the same effect. A brief, if brutal, detox.”

“Perhaps experiencing combat as I do will destroy you.”

“You held me with you when we danced. There was no gravity pulling on me. I’m sure the same thing will happen tonight, as long as we stay in that world beyond the reach of humanity.” Hal thought he’d found the solution to their dilemma, but Inanna quickly reminded him of the horrifying truth of what he suggested.

“I can keep us there, Hal, but there’s a trade-off. In that world many things have substance, including spiritual beings. You will see those things I battle. You will experience them as I do, which means you can be hurt by them as I can.” Inanna paused for a moment as her lover’s countenance froze. His eyes looked away from her and into the sky, but they still revealed what he was trying to hide. Hal feared those things he couldn’t see more than he feared anything in the physical world.

She continued quietly. “You don’t have a soul for them to attack, so in a sense you’re protected from demons in your day-to-day life. Flying into battle with me puts you physically within their reach.” She sighed. “Perhaps leaving you here is the better option.”   

They stood side-by-side as Hal wrestled with his fear. It was a weakness and he despised his weaknesses, but this fear was deeper than most and sprang from the core of his humanity. He might be a legendary monster, but he was a man beneath it all, and men weren’t made to face immortal horrors. He’d had his fill of that 500 years ago, when the Men with Sticks and Ropes had drug him into a dark place filled with pain. He’d felt the touch of things he couldn’t see; he’d heard the scrabble and rustle, smelled the stench. Those things had torn his soul from him when he was called back to the world by his maker.

How could he fling himself into the midst of them? How could he dare look at them, let alone put himself within their reach? His answer stood next to him, waiting. The thought of failing Inanna was more painful than his fear.

He spoke to her while looking at the stars. “This conversation reminds me of our song. ‘Demons’ is the title, is it not? A song of darkness struggling not to destroy the light. You showed me the despair and hope that hides behind your eyes, the day you shared your soul with me. You asked me to trust you, do you remember?”

She nodded. Hal continued. “I’ve learned to trust you above all else. I trust you to keep me safe, and I trust that the piece of your soul in me will bind us together and keep me whole.”

Inanna studied him carefully for a minute before speaking. “I believe you’re right. We are bound together with a tie stronger than blood. We will drive back the curse without damaging the man. Let’s fly.”

 

*Music and lyrics by Chris DeGarmo, first performed by Queensryche.

_In the dead of night_   
_She'll come and take you away_   
_Searing beams of light and thunder_   
_Over blackened plains_   
_She will find her way_   
  
_Flying high through the night_   
_She will hide your fate_   
_As she takes your soul from under_   
_And the blinding light of the castle fades_   
  
_There is no escape_   
_It's the ending of your precious life_   
  
_Your soul slipped away_   
_It belongs to the Queen of the Reich_   
_The Queen of the Reich_   
_Yeah she's coming for you_   
  
_You're fading away_   
_Your life cast astray_   
_A victim the beast shall obtain_   
  
_The light will not shine_   
_For you'll die tonight at her shrine_   
_And black is the last thing you'll see_   
  
_Over and over_   
_Dreams of dying fill your head_   
_It's the sign of the cross_   
_That you'll find ahead_   
  
_No one will answer_   
_The light is fading away_   
_Captive souls are screaming out in pain_   
  
_There is no escape_   
_It's the ending of your precious life_   
  
_Your soul slipped away_   
_It belongs to the Queen of the Reich_   
_You're fading away, No, No, No_   
_The Queen of the Reich_   
_You're slipping away, yeah_   
_The Queen of the Reich_


	12. The Nature of Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With much thanks to Saemay for feedback and critique.

They stood on a mountain, caked in the remnants of their victims. They were preparing to finish their chosen task, the destruction of Verdant Opportunity headquarters. It was time to fly.

Inanna held out her bloodstained hand to him, but Hal hesitated. “Before we go into battle again, I have a favor to ask. I know it’s selfish, but you can hardly be surprised by that.” A smile appeared briefly on his face, followed by one on hers. “And this may be my only chance,” he finished.

Her smile was replaced by a passing of frown lines that cracked the drying blood between her brows. “That sounds ominous,” she said.

“Not necessarily. How much do you know of the abilities of an Old One?”

“Only what has been documented and what I saw tonight,” Inanna said. “You are stronger and faster than I thought possible. It explains how you were able to escape me during the Seraphin War. Why?”

Hal looked toward the city below them and a weight seemed to settle on him. “I was destined to become a legendary vampire, Mr. Snow said. Cast in his image, a blight upon the world.” He glanced at her quickly. “At least with you I serve a better purpose.”

“He gave you these gifts?”

“In a sense, yes. They come with Old One status, but most Old Ones are unaware. He revealed them to me. Apparently he saw some potential.” Hal smiled ruefully at Inanna. She met his gaze with a calm expression that allowed him to continue. “He said that a vampire could be omnipotent if he chose. He had only to believe it was possible and pursue that belief.”

“Do you agree with that?”

Hal shook his head. “No. There’s nothing in our history to suggest it. To be honest, I don’t believe any creature is omnipotent, not even you. I think it was his challenge for me to learn the scope of my abilities.”

“Sounds like my understanding of my own nature,” Inanna said. “That ‘belief in myself’ you find so amusing.”

“Its dark twin. And there’s a price to pay.”

“Blood.” She didn’t bother to form a question. It was obvious. With a vampire the price was always blood, and the price was paid by his victims.    

“Yes,” Hal agreed, “which is why you haven’t seen me like this since the War. I haven’t dared be this creature, not even when fighting Hetty’s vampires. I burn through the energy carried in the blood of my victims too quickly; the need to drink and replenish myself is too strong. I thought you’d have to kill me to stop me.” He shook his head again. “Even Lord Henry, reckless as he is, knew better than to take that risk.”

She nodded her understanding. “You learned to keep those things hidden until needed. I get it. I did the same--I learned to use the least force necessary, to keep as much of myself secret as possible. It only makes sense, not to reveal yourself to your enemies until you have to.”

“True.”

“Did something threaten you, or push you into using your strengths tonight?”

Inanna was careful to keep her tone neutral. She’d made use of Hal’s strengths, encouraged him in fact, so she couldn’t exactly condemn him for drinking blood under the circumstances. Besides, he was still her Hal, beneath the blood, and he’d just seen a side of her that few beings in history had witnessed. If he could accept her more horrifying aspects, she should give him the same courtesy. Surely she could hide the pain that pierced her soul and her disgust for the curse that covered him so thickly.

“It was my choice,” he said. “My determination not to be the weaker partner. I know you better now; I know you can beat back the curse. I thought your influence would calm the bloodlust and make it manageable.” He looked back at the city, not willing to see her face while he admitted his failure. “Then I was surprised by a human and got bloody while killing him.”

“Just what we hoped to avoid. Oh well, water under the bridge. Here you are, as you say. So, what do you want, Mr. Legendary Vampire?” she teased gently.

Hal was relieved by her calm acceptance of his condition. He’d expected some kind of recrimination, an acknowledgement of her disappointment if nothing else. But her eyes were warm, her smile so inviting he wanted to kiss her and lick the smears of blood from her face. Perhaps he could.

His demeanor softened. “I’d like to kiss you,” he said as took her hand. “I’d like to do more than kiss you, if you will allow me.”

“You want to make out? In the middle of our epic revenge against Verdant Opportunity? While planning to battle a legion of demons?” Inanna kept herself from shuddering at the thought of such intimate contact with the vampire curse. Her proximity was already weakening it, she could tell, but it was still as strong as she’d ever seen it. Lust and loathing were uncomfortable bedfellows, she knew from experience. She didn’t want that particularly poisonous mix to corrupt her feelings for Hal.

He took a step closer and put his arms around her, casually brushing fragments of tissue and bone from her shirt as he did. Her appearance didn’t faze him any more than his seemed to bother her. His eyes warmed and sparked with desire as he breathed in the strange cocktail of human bits, blood, and her.

“I know you hold back when we make love. You’re careful not to hurt me. At least, no more than I want.” He flicked a blood-encrusted eyebrow at her. “And I’ve been hiding my true ability from you. But now, well.” Hal gave Inanna a shrug and the half-smile that he knew she found hard to resist. “The damage is already done.”  

This was her Hal embracing her, his familiar strong arms around her, his nostrils flaring slightly as he savored her scent. He was her predator unleashed, her vampire in full possession of his power. She closed her eyes against the red.

“You want sex.” Inanna felt desire stir in her as she spoke the words. She realized she was speaking to herself as much as to Hal.

 “Why not?” he replied. “Here I am. Here you are. Let us take a few moments and enjoy each other without the level of restraint we usually keep. We may not have this chance again.”

“Now?” She whispered as she braced herself to open her eyes and confront the curse she’d brought back to life through her carelessness. But, when she looked through the blood into his warm hazel eyes, Inanna saw Hal’s desire for her and his joy at being with her. Desire and joy grew in her as well. They were welcome. 

“I can’t think of a better time, my dear,” Hal said with a rakish smile. “Can you?”

The kiss didn’t surprise Inanna. The speed with which she was parted from her trousers and pants was breathtaking, however, and she needed a moment to consider what was happening. Hal somehow managed to strip her gory garments off, right down to her shoes. He may have licked her a few times in the process. His dexterity was even more impressive than his audacity.

She found herself suddenly unconcerned about anything beyond his hands and lips on her, and she responded with appropriate haste by peeling off his blood-soaked shirt so she could get her hands on his gorgeous pale body. She pinned him against a tree as she undid his trousers, kissing him hungrily while she got his erection free of his clothes.

He spun them around and pinned _her,_ demonstrating strength beyond what he’d shown before. He chuckled against her neck as he licked her pulse points and sucked the tender skin. He held her wrists while he got a knee between her legs and parted them. He was fiercer than she thought possible, staring into her eyes as he thrust into her. His arrogant grin roused her spirit.

He was pushing her to loosen the restraints she kept on herself—pushing her to play with him.

She wrestled free and shoved him away; he landed across the clearing, dug in briefly, and leaped back. She met him at the apex of his arch with a force that spun them both. They fell heavily, twisting and rolling and claiming kisses until the kisses became more important than fighting for control. Then he was in her, she was on him, they were moving together and the ground shivered under them.

Inanna kissed him again and was caught by the vampire’s marker--the tang of death and wildness on her palate. She felt it in the curse that thinned and slid away from her touch but hovered, waiting. She felt it in her aching canines, teeth begging to become fangs and feast as he feasted, on blood. She bit his shoulder, sending them further into the eroticism of pleasure laced with pain.

Hal gasped. “Harder!”

She moved to his neck. Her fangs extended. She sank them into his flesh and his body jerked upward. He drove himself into her, lifting them both off the ground as he clamped his arms around her and forced her body hard against his. Blood pooled in her mouth; she returned it to him in a kiss. Hal reclaimed the blood, mixed now with her saliva. A hint of her in him, making it so much sweeter.

“Again!” He commanded her. She laughed and obeyed, and took his blood. She taunted the vampire, taking him in a way he didn’t dare take her.

Again and again she bit, scattering bite marks and blood smears along his neck, shoulders, and arms. Again and again she returned the blood to him and he received it eagerly, sucking it greedily from her mouth. Each bite was a climax, an explosion of sensation through them both. Each bite was a tease, a penetration of her into him, a reminder of the larger penetration that drove him into her. She closed her eyes again; she needed to block out the blood that covered them both.

He flipped them over and she let him. He invaded her mouth with his lips and tongue as they moved in a rhythm of twisting strokes that sent shuddering waves of pleasure through her. She lost all sense of control or caution; she knew only him on her, him in her, his power over her. She glowed.

She held him tight and he came with her--stayed with her--locked in ecstasy that extended beyond possibility or reason. Time stopped between heartbeats. The torn ground, crushed greenery, and quivering trees disappeared. The stars disappeared. The world fell away and it was just them, a single creature formed from two.

Hal gasped, searching for air, and the world returned. Or maybe they returned to the world. He couldn’t tell. It felt like only a few moments, but Hal knew he’d glimpsed eternity. The ground was solid under them and their bodies were intact, but he felt as though he had briefly exploded into space and had landed, miraculously returned to a human shape.

“How is—that possible?” he panted, exhausted from their lovemaking and stunned by what had happened.

“Rapture, I guess. And I carried you with me,” she said. Her chest heaved as she caught her breath. “Never happened before. Didn’t know it could. Damn that was good.”

He rolled off her and they stretched out, side by side. He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing more. He had experienced something not meant for physical creatures.

After a few minutes Inanna lifted a hand—he took it and held it.

“You okay?” she asked quietly. “Bodies aren’t supposed to go where we went.”

“I’m not sure ‘okay’ is the right description,” he replied. “I experienced pleasure beyond any I’ve ever known. I also felt as though I was disintegrating into nothing.”

Inanna turned onto her side and studied him. He was beautiful, even through the blood and the red veil of the vampire. It was much lighter now. She was relieved to see that she hadn’t hurt Hal by taking him with her.

“ _La petite morte_ ,” she said.

“The little death? It describes female orgasm. Surely it isn’t literal.”

“Not exactly, but there’s such a thing as pain or pleasure so great it causes an out-of-body experience. I’m such a weird mix of spiritual and corporeal that in my case the body tags along for the ride. And because we’re linked, I brought you along as well.” She brushed her fingers along the bite marks and bruises she’d left on his skin. They were fading rapidly. “I guess this proves it.”

“Proves what?”

“Whither thou goest, I will go. Our tie extends beyond earthly limits. I really will be able to go to hell with you if I need to.” She smiled at him. “Lucifer has probably figured that out and decided that keeping you alive is his best option. He doesn’t want me anywhere near his throne.”

“You’re mad. And thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“I’ve never had a partner with whom I could be completely free. At least, not one who could live through the experience.” Hal sighed. “You’ve given me a good thing to weigh against the horrors I’ve committed.”

She kissed him lightly on the lips. “My pleasure. And there’s a happy bonus. It’s lighter. Thinner. We’re already forcing it back. Can you tell?”

“The fact that I feel badly about my past deeds is an indication.” He grinned up at her, a mischievous sparkle firing the green lights in his eyes. “Apparently the dance of the beast with two backs works as well as our dance in the cathedral.”

She laughed and got to her feet to begin the search for her clothes. She found them filthy, inside-out and crumpled. Hal had chosen speed over his typical fastidiousness. Inanna gathered her clothes and dressed as he readjusted his pants and trousers and retrieved his shirt from a low-hanging limb.

“Ready to dance with me again?” she asked as she pulled on her trousers.

He smiled. “Always,” he said, as he shook out his shirt as if it was a dirty rug that needed cleaning.

Inanna frowned slightly as she considered the logistics of flying into battle with Hal tied to her back. She would need to protect him somehow. Maybe her wings? She usually used them as weapons but in this case they could be a shield for her lover.

“I see the wheels turning, my lady. Thinking strategy? Let me ask you. Have you ever stood in battle with another? Just two against a legion?” He had an idea, sprung from his own experience and a comment he’d just made. He wouldn’t just face those things he feared, he would destroy them.

“Stood? No. Flown, yes, but that’s a different thing.”

“I have,” Hal said as he moved closer to her. “I’ve stood, back-to-back with just one other, facing insurmountable odds. The numbers against us didn’t matter as much as the strength of our weapons, our ability to strike down any who came within reach, and our determination to survive.”

Hal had experience in battle with a perspective very different from her own. Inanna would listen and respect what he had to say. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” she said as she leaned against him to put on her shoes. He changed his stance to support her without question.

 “The beast with two backs is an old phrase signifying sexual union. What if we become a beast with two fronts? A beast signifying battle? What if we meet your enemies back-to-back, with two sets of eyes and arms and swords? That beast would be a formidable opponent.” His eyes began to shine in anticipation of it—flying with drawn swords, becoming part of her twisting whirlwind of destruction.

Hal could sense her worry and the beginning of a refusal forming. He took her hands in his and studied their fingers, so easily interlaced, as he pled his case.

“I can’t bear to be Lois Lane to your Superman. I won’t be strapped to your back like an overweight rucksack. You say I will be able to see these creatures. If I can see them, I can kill them. Let me join you, truly join you, in this fight.”

He could look at her face then, without the risk of seeing her false denial of his description of himself. He could meet her eyes without shame, having found the way past his fear of the immortal creatures she faced with ease.

“I can’t put you at risk like that, Hal. You mean too much to me.”

“I’m an Old One, a soldier and a leader of armies. When offered the choice of a sword or a shield, I choose the sword. Only a being as terrifying as yourself can send me running.” Hal spoke boldly and smiled at his good-natured admission of past events. “And possibly your erstwhile brother, but surely a demon of his caliber won’t be attending to an office building in South America.”

Inanna couldn’t help smiling at the memory as well. “You never actually saw him, remember? Not his true form. You’d been clobbered by your best friend and were happily unconscious. And no, there are no demons of the first order in the area. But the things we face may scare you even more than my brother or I. Some of those guys are ass-end ugly.”

“Since I have to see them anyway, I’d rather have the chance to defend myself against them. The best defense is a good offense, isn’t that the adage?” He smiled again, using charm to soften her toward his wishes. It worked.

Inanna produced the rope she’d loaned Hal earlier and turned her back to him. They stood against each other and lashed themselves together. Once around their waists, up her torso and over her shoulder and his, down his torso and around them both again. One more pass up, over their other shoulders, down and around. The rope lengthened to suit its purpose; Inanna tied the ends together at her waist.

“Securely bound,” Hal said as he leaned forward to test the rope. “It gives as I move but holds fast. What are the chances of it being cut by an opponent?”

“Nothing we face tonight has the power to damage my weapons,” Inanna said. “Speaking of which, what do you want? Broadsword and shield, as before?”

“Two swords. Broadsword as before, and a second, shorter blade.”

In a moment they had their chosen weapons in hand. Inanna steadied herself—she was on tiptoe to align herself with Hal, as always when they were bound together. She took a breath. Her wings unfurled between them, passing through the ropes as if they didn’t exist.

“Here we go,” she said.

Hal felt a burst of something lighter than air, the familiar effervescence that signified a shifting of place and reality. He blinked, and just that quickly they were midair and weightless. The night sky was filled with streams and eddies of light that poured from the stars and brushed against them gently, tinkling with the sound of a million exquisitely-wrought bells as the two of them slipped through the currents. The familiar smells of green things, of blood, of humanity’s marks on the world, were replaced by a strangely cool scent, like a breeze across a glacier that had been strewn with lilacs. A taste of ice and fire lingered along the edge of his tongue and hung at the back of his throat.

Hal realized he was experiencing starlight as Inanna knew it. He was awestruck by the incomprehensible beauty through which he moved. Once again he was engulfed by sublime opulence, his senses overwhelmed, his cells straining as the vampire screamed against its power and purity. He felt his body tense as the curse fought for control, and he looked down at himself, at his fists clenched around weapons fit for this new world he’d discovered.

He saw the curse, the red veil she’d spoken of, intrinsically tied to the bloodstains and smears that covered him. He saw how it retreated from her rope, from his hands, from his legs where hers tangled with them. He saw it twist and coil, dig into him, shudder, and cling like an evil, recalcitrant child. Hal saw himself as _she_ had to see him, and the sight nearly made him retch.

He looked away as they streaked through the bright currents that filled the sky, away from himself and toward a cloud of black and red; a cloud of claws, fangs, and glowing eyes; of grotesque leathery, sparsely-feathered wings; of gaping jaws and grasping limbs. They were legion, they were churning with fear or anger, and they were most assuredly ass-end ugly.

Hal laughed at the accuracy of her colloquialism and at his own relief. He should have been terrified, scared out of his mind by what he saw, but he was grateful for a foe that required his full concentration. He couldn’t waste effort fussing over one little blood curse with those things waiting.

He heard Inanna laugh with him, exultant and free, as she drove them into the disintegrating mass of demons. Then there was only movement and shadow, the flash of swords, the slash of claws, dark gashes in the starlight streams; a stench of sulfur, putrid breath in his face, acid on his skin; curses and snarls from throats that had never known a soft sound; malevolent eyes gleaming, fading as ash clouds filled the sky.

It was over. They were alone. Hal couldn’t have imagined such ferocious movement existed in the elegance of flight. He was relatively certain he’d have sore muscles later, once the excitement was over.

“We must do that again!”

It had gone too quickly. Hal wanted more battle, more danger, more demons to destroy. He wanted anything that fired his adrenalin and kept him from looking at himself. He felt his weapons leave his hands and looked anyway, a reflex. Empty hands, pale skin, blue sleeves, trousers. Grimy with blood and gore, dirt and grass stains, and now ash. But the hideous sickening veil of red was gone. The bloodlust that had roared into being at his first sip was now merely a whisper. The detox had worked.

Just as dancing with her in the cathedral had driven the vampire to ground, so flying with her into battle had also forced it into hiding. Hal knew it wasn’t the dance or the battle, but the gift of being allowed into her exquisite reality that made the difference. His senses were overrun by the sumptuous universe through which they moved. The curse, born of an evil spirit and meant for earthbound creatures, retreated from the beauty of spiritual existence beyond the confines of earth.

Inanna caught his hand in hers and the rope vanished, allowing them to separate and rest in the soft swells of starlight. Hal turned to her, giddy with triumph, and saw her torn clothes, a missing shoe, claw marks raking over her shin and ankle. She was washing what must be blood from her leg, cupping the tinkling starlight in her hand and rubbing gently. The particles of blood were caught and carried away by a brighter, swifter current that flowed just beyond them.

Hal froze in the middle of a sharp inhale. It had been instinctive, the vampire’s breath trying to catch the scent of blood. It was wrong and risky, he knew it—but he stopped himself too late. It drifted into his nose and mouth and echoed through his being. Not the alluring blood he knew, but lily-of-the-valley in rain-cleared air, marshmallow gently toasting over a fire, a melancholy violin. He experienced her blood as it existed beyond the reach of humanity. It stirred every part of him that wasn’t the vampire.

The piece of her soul expanded within him and drew him to her. Hal could feel it yearning to return to her, to be part of the mystery and beauty of her. He couldn’t express what he felt. His words were stupid and useless.

“You’re hurt. It’s because of me, isn’t it? You were protecting me.”

Inanna smiled at him. “Don’t be silly. I’m reckless in battle. I’m always getting cuts and scrapes, I just clean up before I come home so you don’t see it.” She pulled him closer, until they could put their arms around each other. “And yes,” she continued, “we can do that again. I can’t tell you what a difference it made, knowing you had my back. It was so much quicker and easier! Seriously, if we didn’t have a building to wreck I’d go hunting with you again right now.”  

He relaxed as her compliments eased his mind. So, Inanna had enjoyed battling in the manner he’d proposed. He had proven himself useful, a good partner rather than a dead weight.

“Speaking of wrecking a building, how does your armor stand up to demolition?” he asked.  

Hal tried to sound casual about it, but the notion of plummeting headlong into god knows how much glass, concrete, and steel unnerved him. He’d replenished his old tired blood with a fresh supply, but it would need to last indefinitely and he didn’t want to lose any if he could help it. He could easily be sliced wide open during the course of the upcoming destruction if they weren’t careful. So could Inanna. He wanted them both to be safe.

“You’ll see,” she said. “I’m sure it will accept you now.”

A layer of armor formed over each of them, if it could be called armor. Hal tested its qualities. It moved as smoothly as the finest chain mail and lay against his skin with the soft weightlessness of silk. The cowl that covered his head didn’t diminish any of his senses. The armor appeared solid, but it breathed with him and didn’t pinch or bind anywhere.

It was nothing like the ‘parade dress’ that Inanna had displayed briefly when she wanted to intimidate a crowd. This was understated, utilitarian, as dull as an old t-shirt and just as comfortable. He assumed it was impenetrable. If not, why had she bothered?

A simple belt of what could have been leather held them together. Hal liked the idea of facing Inanna while they flew. They fit together perfectly in this position, and he was less inclined to consider himself baggage than if he’d been slung on her back.

Inanna smiled indulgently at her lover as he tested his new armor and found it acceptable. She pointed straight up, over their heads, and said, “Shall we?”

Hal looked up, wondering as he did why they needed to go higher into the sky. He saw the city lights above them. Inanna chuckled at his momentary discombobulation.  With no gravity to pull on them, they’d come to rest upside down. Hal caught on and laughed quietly.

“How do you keep from getting disoriented and lost?” he asked. “I’d think you’d find yourself on the far side of the moon if you weren’t careful.”

“I’d figure it out soon enough,” she countered. “The landscape would give it away.”

They dove toward the city and the building that was their target. Inanna raised her hands over her head as she’d explained, and Hal joined her in the gesture. With their four hands held together and her wings tight around them, they burst through a window on the top floor, flitted through the building and out the other side, cut a tight arc, and burst through the next floor down.

“Three souls,” Inanna said, her lips close to his ear.

“Custodial crew?” Hal offered an explanation that proved to be accurate.  

They found the cleaning crew on the 5th floor. Inanna snatched two of them up and tucked them against her sides, and Hal automatically put his arms around them to hold them tight. Her wings wrapped around them all as she carried them from the building and dropped the cleaners safely a few blocks away. In another moment the third member of the crew joined them.

Hal wondered if the humans would even remember being carried out of the building, or if it happened so fast they wouldn’t have an explanation. Perhaps they’d call it a miracle, once the building began to collapse—God or one of his angels protecting them. Technically they’d be over half right if they did.

They blew through the rest of the floors of the building and circled the parking garage in the sub-basement level. There had been no more people in the building.

“This’ll knock out the lights in the neighborhood when it goes, and make a hell of an impression,” Inanna said as she came to rest on the concrete floor. “No more Superman. No more humans to find. This will be simpler. You ready?”

Hal nodded. He’d survived unscathed so far, thanks to his armor and her wings, which she used to deflect debris. She wrapped her wings around them and Hal felt the familiar effervescence, followed by a split-second of darkness and crushing pressure. Then he was in their bubble, with concrete and steel exploding away from them. Before he had time to comprehend what was happening they were in crushing darkness and exploding light again.

She was literally transporting them inside each pillar and forcing the material apart like a supernatural wedge. No, a bomb. Hal corrected himself. They were an explosive device like no other. It was equally terrifying and exhilarating, and he couldn’t help wondering how she’d ever gotten the nerve to try such a thing. Had it even occurred to her that she could be crushed? Knowing her, she probably hadn’t stopped to think, but had simply tried it and found that it worked.

The building began to settle and groan as pillar after pillar burst into fragments and dust. They moved in an inward spiral, beginning along the exterior walls and ending in the center of the parking garage. When the last pillar was demolished they turned upward and flew straight through the structure and out the roof. Two more passes, down to the sub-basement and up again, all done with a speed that put them back in the sky and hovering to watch the building sink in upon itself.

Every floor had been damaged, interior walls perforated, and the supporting gridwork weakened. They’d left behind a wreck of twisted metal and powdered concrete. Sparks flew from severed electrical lines. Water gushed from torn pipes. Clouds of dust and debris expanded upward as the building fell. Hal heard the fire alarms go off and saw battery-powered emergency lights switch on, lighting the partially-exposed stairwells and exits. The building’s security system was finally catching on.

As he watched the 20-story building groan and rumble into a heap, Hal realized that he was in the world again. Their armor was gone. A simple leather belt held them together. The stars were pinpoints in the night sky, city smells tickled his nostrils, and he was now covered with blood, gore, grass, dirt, ash, and a grainy, uncomfortable dust comprised of whatever building materials they’d just passed through.

What’s more, he was tired—bone tired, exhausted in every cell of his body and coming down from his adrenalin rush. Inanna, on the other hand, had already turned her attention elsewhere. She had a stillness, a sense of concentration. She’d found another target, a building perhaps, another property owned by Verdant Opportunity. It was very likely in another city, possibly on another continent or in another hemisphere.

_Shit. Not again,_ he thought _. I’m too tired for another tour around the world._

“Inanna.” Hal spoke her name calmly but firmly and put a hand on her cheek to get her attention. He turned her eyes to his and made sure she was focused on him before reminding her, as she had asked. “It’s done. Time to return to The People. Time to go home.”

Inanna hesitated, but she could see Hal’s exhaustion. And he was right, the work she’d wanted to do had been done. It was enough for now. They’d study Verdant Opportunity further once they were finished with their business in South America. But for now, it was time to return to The People. She nodded, and in a second they were in their quarters in the village.  

The belt that held them together vanished and Hal promptly collapsed onto the raised platform that served as their bed. He stretched and yawned.

“I should bathe. After I rest a moment.”

“So should I,” Inanna said as she joined him. “It can wait.”

By the time she had settled against him, Hal was sound asleep. She followed his lead.

 


	13. A Gentle Kind of Myth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to Whimsyfox and Saemay for kind and constructive criticism.

They woke to the sound of a scream and a crash as something hit the floor near their bed and scattered. The barrage of noise was followed by retreating footsteps and yelling from outside.

Inanna groaned. “Well, fuck me,” she said. It was not an invitation.

“Trouble?” Hal asked as he forced his eyes open and looked at what would have been their breakfast, now scattered across the mats on the floor.

“Possibly.” She sat up with a sigh. “They take adultery pretty seriously.”

“Excuse me?”

She smiled sleepily at his rumpled confusion as he propped himself up on his elbows next to her. “Well, you are in bed with another woman,” she said.

She’d remained in her true form and had gone to sleep without reverting to the familiar Protector the villagers knew. She’d have to explain, possibly explain several things, based on what she was hearing outside.

In the soft light of morning Inanna gave them both a critical once-over. She and Hal looked like creatures left over from a nightmare, crusted with dried blood and dirt, and when they moved, ash and construction dust sifted into the air around them. Inanna got off the platform bed and shook herself.

“I feel like Pigpen from the Charlie Brown cartoons,” she said.

Hal’s lips twitched in a brief smile as he got out of bed and stretched. “I preferred Schroeder’s focus on the arts,” he said. “Leo read the comics at breakfast. Aloud,” he added with a slight grimace.

Inanna shook her head at the mental picture as she stepped around the food on the floor, aiming for the doorway. She threw aside the fabric and mosquito netting that covered the entrance and stepped outside with Hal behind her. A crowd was gathering.

Inanna unfurled her wings, then transformed into the Protector. Her people dropped to their knees with foreheads on the ground, awestruck by her display of a new power. She spoke to them quietly and they relaxed and got to their feet, smiling and talking happily. She was their Protector, their guardian, and they loved her. She and the Hunter had spent the night destroying the enemy of The People. She asked them to provide her and her consort with breakfast and a wash, and they were happy to do so.

In short order Inanna and Hal found themselves in the midst of a group of women who were determined to bathe them whether they needed the help or not. Several vessels of hot water had been brought into their quarters for that purpose and their clothes had been whisked away to be cleaned. The bed had been freshened and the floor tidied.

Inanna noticed that the more attractive young women chose to attend to her consort and that he took the attention well, as if he were used to it and considered it fitting. Hal caught her looking and raised an eyebrow and smirked at her, silently suggesting that she should take notes and try to be more attentive at home. She rolled her eyes and laughed. He was an arrogant bastard when he wasn’t self-flagellating. She preferred arrogant.

She let her mind wander and reviewed their night’s work with satisfaction. Hal had proven himself a capable warrior at the logging encampments, although he’d chosen to drink blood in order to do so. Inanna had learned some things about the Old One that she’d need to consider carefully before taking him into battle against humans again. Still, their misadventure had turned out well. Their flight into the spiritual reality beyond the physical world had driven back the curse, and he’d been an apt partner in her battle against the demons that protected Verdant Opportunity headquarters. He’d faced his fear and a host of horrifying creatures and seemed none the worse for wear.

She glanced at Hal to confirm that he wasn’t being tempted by the women around him. He seemed at ease and there was no sign of the curse, not even a tinge of pink to suggest it was stirring. Inanna heard giggling from the young woman who knelt in front of Hal to wash his legs. Apparently something else was stirring.

Hal stood with arms outstretched as attendants carefully wiped the grime from his underarms and sides. He paid them no mind, just as he gave no notice to the attendant whose job it was to clean his groin area. His focus was on Inanna and the hands, not his, that moved over her body.

He appreciated the deferential ministrations of The People—it had been well over a century since he’d had this level of personal attention, and it made him feel royally cosseted. He wasn’t jealous of the hands that touched Inanna so respectfully, but as more of the night’s residue was removed and more of her rich brown skin was revealed to him, his want for her grew. No matter what form she took, how often they joined, or how long they spent together, he still wanted her. It burned beneath the surface, ready to ignite with a look or a touch.

The young woman who had tasked herself with cleansing his legs and groin was apparently finding it a challenge to navigate through suddenly treacherous waters, so to speak. Surely his wasn’t the first male member she’d encountered, and surely she realized that her touch hadn’t caused his excited state. She was apparently inexperienced with the details of servanthood, however, or she would have continued her efforts with suitable aplomb. Instead, she stared and giggled nervously.  

Hal met Inanna’s gaze and shrugged slightly; a corner of his mouth tilted up in the half-smile she adored. She’d watched his eyes travel up her body, and the heat in them had warmed her and set off the sparks that always ignited when any part of him touched any part of her. She murmured to her attendants, who moved aside so she could go to Hal. She took the cloth from the giggling girl as she quietly told Hal’s attendants to step away.

She didn’t look down as she washed him—she didn’t need her eyes to maneuver through such familiar territory. Instead she kept her eyes on his, and after a few seconds the green fire in them told her it was time to dismiss their attendants. She sent them away with a few syllables.

She took over the job of washing Hal’s body, and her gentle, delicate touch as she moved around him eased his sore places as much as it stirred his desire. She seemed to know where the slight residual aches lay. Hal didn’t think she healed him—he thought she caressed his soreness away.

When she was finished he did the same for her, moving around her in search of any places left unattended. He moved her long black hair away from the back of her neck and ran the soft cloth down her spine, following the trail of the snake tattoo that began at the base of her neck. Her attendants had hesitated to touch it.

The snake was headless, with blood droplets showering onto her shoulders, and it wound around her torso, down her left buttock, and down her leg, wrapping twice around the limb before ending on the top of her left foot. It represented one of the monstrous creatures she’d killed in defense of her people. Rather than scales, figures of people and creatures ran in rows down its length. Hal supposed they were victims of the snake and proof of its fearsomeness.

Hal followed the snake partway around the Protector’s body before she stopped him with the kiss he’d been craving. As she pulled him to her, Hal tossed aside the cloth and slipped his hand between her legs, gently encouraging her to let him in. He found her welcoming slick warmth and his slender fingers traced the path to her clitoris. His touch quickly had it engorged.

He loved the body that pressed against his.  It was strong, sturdy, compact and sinuous at once, and it moved with predatory grace. This woman’s radiant life force warmed him from across the room; he felt her against his skin before they touched. He knew what pleased the Protector, just as he’d learned the details of pleasing all the forms she’d offered him. His fingers stroked her gently, then more aggressively as her breath quickened and became ragged.  

When she transferred her desire into a kiss, her gentleness disappeared. She assaulted his mouth with her lips and teeth and tongue, nipped his lip and neck and bit his ear.

Hal moved her back until she was against one of the four posts that supported the platform on which they’d slept. Not just a post, but a living tree around which the structure had been built; its roots sank deep into the ground and its canopy sheltered the Protector’s quarters. It was symbolic of her relationship with The People, but at the moment Hal didn’t care about symbolism, he just wanted something sturdy enough to take the force with which he planned to fuck her.

He lifted her and buried himself in her as her arms and legs wrapped around him. She was already tightening and shuddering with pleasure before his first stroke, and she growled as she began to climax. Hal pressed her against the tree with his body and his kisses, making his assault on her mouth, the line of her jaw, her neck and her ear. As his orgasm neared hers continued, radiating through her with each of his thrusts.

She gripped him tightly and murmured words, broken and whole, and sounds he recognized in any language, sounds of pleasure and more. Joy. _Love._ Without the word. Always without the word. They didn’t need it.

His kisses and caresses softened. He’d gratified his need to claim her; now he would gratify his need to love her. Hal focused on the touch of her body against his, of her silky black hair and warm brown skin under his fingertips. He reveled in the taste of her mouth, in the lingering hints of his blood, of ash, of a drink made from manioc that they’d sipped while being washed. He counted the tattooed droplets of blood on her shoulders, counted them with kisses that savored her skin while he breathed in her scent. He lost track of time, ceased counting the moments he spent in the soft moist embrace that lured and trapped his erection. His senses filled with her, each cataloging her separately to create the reality of her in his world.

She relaxed against him, the tension of her pleasure easing into a quiet contentment. He’d gratified her need for him. She was sated.

“Your turn,” she whispered. “Come for me, baby. Come for me.” Gently she commanded. Willingly he obeyed.

===

They were dressed, fed, and rested. Their backpacks had been checked, repacked, and were ready to go. Hal lamented the loss of his new M4, which had been left on the mountain outside Sao Paulo, but otherwise he was in good spirits and ready to go treasure hunting.

The Protector dawdled among her people. She chatted with adults and played with children. She seemed more interested in catching up with local gossip than with finding a red diamond and catching Hetty. Hal was restless, but he couldn’t blame her for taking a little time to relax and enjoy herself with a group who loved her. He enjoyed watching her mingle with her people, and he loved what her actions said about her character.

Hal had spent plenty of time among people over whom he’d ruled; he’d enjoyed the fear and respect his subjects had shown. Inanna was an altogether different type of leader, as she’d shown in their first days together at Honolulu Heights. In spite of his initial struggle for control she’d treated him with decency he didn’t deserve, as well as a rough kind of courtesy.

Her language was much less coarse these days—his influence, he knew. He preferred a civil tongue, and she joked that his winces spoke more eloquently than some of her words. She used his facial expressions to modify her speech, but she clung to her colloquialisms and he suspected her of occasionally making them up on the spot. They had become an endearing part of her, a glimpse of simple humanity in the complex creature he loved.

Here were more glimpses, in her laugh as she joined a child’s game; in her quiet demeanor as she listened to an old man’s story; in her chatter while at the communal cooking fire, basting what looked like wild boar as it turned on a spit. Tonight’s dinner, apparently. A feast was being prepared, possibly a celebration, and with good cause. The Protector had saved her people from genocide, with the help of the Hunter. Hal received friendly gestures and smiles from the villagers throughout the day, which was a highly unusual occurrence in his life. He rather liked it.

Hal took the opportunity to spend his day observing The People. They cared for each other, enjoyed each other’s company, worked and played together; the village was a loving environment in which families and friendships flourished; it was a place where children were safe. Hal saw a community built on those things he knew to be good and true; a community that was the antithesis of the communities in which he had lived.

He saw himself as the one who didn’t belong, who didn’t fit into the picture. He hadn’t known maternal affection, hadn’t had siblings or friends with whom he could play as a child. He hadn’t been safe. Even now he held himself apart, more from habit than need. He didn’t encourage the villagers to approach him, and he didn’t join the children at their games as he had with Ammon’s grandchildren.

Still, as the day progressed Hal began to feel uncharacteristically relaxed and at ease. The sense of security he and Inanna gave their people was being returned to him. He was accepted here. He didn’t need to hide what he was.

Late in the afternoon one of the elders approached and spoke with Inanna. They had a brief discussion, which she related to Hal.

“News of our activity last night has reached The People. The current shaman requests the Ceremony of the Snake after our feast.”

Hal’s quizzical look told her she should explain.

“The ceremony refers to my snake tattoo. The story of our destruction of the loggers will be told, after which symbols will be added to the tattoo to represent the most recent batch of enemies dispatched on behalf of The People.”

“How does that happen? Does the shaman tattoo you on the spot? And where will the new symbols go? The snake has no empty space. Will it sprout a second tail to accommodate?”

She grinned. “You’ll see,” she said, and that ended the conversation.

Before the feast there was dancing in the thatch-roofed meeting space that had served as a hospital. Hal sat on mats on the raised platform Inanna had used to heal The People and watched musicians gather with simple drums that struck different timbres, shakers made from seed pods, and flutes made from hollowed plant stems. He suspected he was in for some sort of aboriginal storytelling in the form of dance, but he quickly learned there was much more to it.

Inanna joined him on the platform with a smile. “I’m here to translate the dance. The People are sharing their story with you, how they came to be. Their history and beliefs. They want to make sure you’re included now. That you know you are welcome, and a part of them.”

“You’re not dancing with them? How is that possible? You can’t keep still when there’s music,” Hal teased to hide his emotion. He was moved by the kindness of these people, just as he had at times been moved by her kindness toward him. The People reflected the best parts of her.

She laughed. “I’ll dance, don’t worry about that. But first I’ll translate for a bit.”

The People’s story began with a man and woman in a desolate, barren land. They were hungry, thirsty, and wretched. They prayed to the gods of that place, to the gods of their ancestors, but they had no answer. In desperation they cried out, calling on whatever god would hear them. They cried out for a future, for water and food and a place of shelter. They offered to worship whatever god chose to answer their cries, and to teach their children to worship that god as well.

A great bird appeared in the sky, carrying a huge green plant in its claws and a large fish in its mouth. The great bird set the plant before them, and the man and woman found water to drink in the bowl created at the base of its thick green leaves. The bird set the fish before them, and they cooked and ate it. They were thirsty and hungry, but still they offered fish and water to the great bird, as to a god.

The great bird accepted their offering and spoke to them in the voice of a woman, saying they had shown themselves worthy by not keeping its gifts to themselves, even though they were desperate for sustenance. The great bird offered to take them to a land where water and food were plentiful, a place where they could live freely and become the founders of a new people.

They plaited the long green strap-like leaves of the water plant into ropes and bound themselves onto the back of the great bird. They flew over land and water, to this place, this paradise overflowing with life. They became The People.

The great bird became their god, until one day they cried out for help and another creature answered their call. She had wings like the great bird, with all the colors of the rainforest, but she looked like The People. She was the great bird’s daughter, born from her love for The People, and she was sent to be their Protector. She has been with The People for all the generations since, answering their cries and guiding their hearts into goodness and peace with the land her mother had given The People.

“Extraordinary,” Hal said as he watched her watch her people dance. Her love for them was plainly drawn in her features. “Were you the great bird as well?”

Inanna whipped her head around to stare at him. A mischievous smile lit up her face and her dark eyes sparkled. “You’re the first one to ask that. Very good!” She laughed and jumped up to join the dance, spreading her arms to symbolize wings and swirling around the open space with the joyful crowd.

A child ran to the Protector, open-armed and smiling. She picked the little girl up and set her on her shoulders. The child’s small hands patted the Protector’s cheeks before moving to grasp her hair. Two more children ran up and the Protector swooped them into her arms, setting one on each hip. She held them with the casual confidence of an experienced mother as she adjusted her dance to accommodate her new partners.

Hal’s heart ached as he watched her. She was a mother to these people, in every good sense of the word. In her love for them he saw her love for the son he never knew. He saw the love she’d shared with him during his brief humanity. He saw the empty space in their shared life, the space that should be inhabited with children. Once again Hal was reminded that however great a creature he might be, by the power of the vampire or through her influence, he was still something less than a man.

The Protector kissed each child on the cheek before she set them down and picked up more. The children she had kissed ran gleefully to their parents to show off her kisses--the mark of tiny angel wings. Hal had seen the symbols on the cheeks of some of the older villagers; he’d assumed they were tribal tattoos. He saw them now as gifts placed long ago, when those elders were themselves children.

The dance ended and Inanna rejoined him on their platform as the feast began. Their meal was interrupted frequently by children who clambered into her lap or hovered, big-eyed and shy, until she beckoned them to her. She was generous with her hugs and with the kisses that marked them as loved by her.

“It’s a rite of passage,” she explained. “They believe it gives them happiness and health. I believe it’s a reminder that they are special to me.”

“Your gentle affection for these children is remarkable,” Hal said sincerely. “If I hadn’t been present I would never guess that less than 24 hours ago you epitomized death. You are the most astounding being I’ve ever known.”

Her reply was left unspoken when two more children, apparently a brother and sister, joined them on the platform. The boy claimed the Protector’s lap immediately, but the little girl studied Hal. She knelt next to him and tentatively touched his arm, brushing her tiny fingers against his pale skin. He sat quietly, alert but still so as not to frighten her.

She reached up to touch his face, then his hair, gingerly playing with the strands that curled along his ear. Emboldened by his calm acceptance of her exploration, she gripped his shirt sleeve as she pulled herself to her feet. Hal turned his head, tilted slightly upward to meet her gaze, and she put her hands on the sides of his face and looked intently into his eyes. She apparently had noted the ways in which he looked different from the members of her community and wanted to investigate further.

Hal looked back, a touch of humor warming his look and setting the green sparks alight in his hazel eyes. The little girl’s dark eyes were clear and her heartbeat was steady. He had succeeded in not scaring her, and she was very likely too young for vampire stories to have much effect anyway.

The little girl frowned slightly as she considered his eyes, then she smiled a shy smile. She touched his lips and voiced a question.

Hal glanced at Inanna.

“She wants to do a fang check.” Inanna couldn’t help smiling at her murderous, bloodthirsty vampire, now sitting quietly with a curious child. He was also a study in contrasts.

Hal obligingly opened his mouth to show that his fangs were put away. The little girl peeked into his mouth and patted him on the cheek as if to say she was finished with her inspection. She sat in the hollow made by his crossed legs and snuggled comfortably against him.

Startled, Hal looked at Inanna for guidance. She just shrugged. Apparently he was on his own. He picked up the shallow bowl that held his dinner, roast pork and some kind of local fruits or vegetables, and offered it to the girl as he got a bite for himself. At least she was old enough to eat solid food, move about independently, and no longer require a nappie.

The girl stayed and shared his meal long after her older brother had claimed his kiss from the Protector and returned to his family. Hal thought she must be an unusual child to want his company. He had no knack for children—he’d learned that centuries ago. There had been others in the brothel, the occasional baby that lived long enough to make a nuisance of itself before succumbing to disease or neglect. One had reached an age convenient for sale into some kind of servant’s life or other. Hal had found them all to be vile creatures who had wanted nothing to do with him. Their rejection had stung.

Life with Eve, a human baby born of werewolves, had reiterated what he already knew about himself. He’d done his best but he didn’t think she’d been entirely comfortable in his care. Eve had won a place in his heart, but he wasn’t sure he’d won a place in hers; he’d seemed destined to play the role of the awkward, well-intentioned uncle. It was, he mused, a role he would happily have kept for the duration of an extended human lifetime. He missed her. He missed Annie. He didn’t miss the rota or the nappies.

His life was a ceaseless series of losses. Only with Inanna could he see a future that didn’t end in saying goodbye.

Hal caught himself absently nuzzling the top of the little girl’s head. Her hair was soft and she smelled like clean child. He set a gentle kiss in place in memory of Eve. His own horrendous youth had taught him nothing of value. Life with Annie, Tom, and Eve had taught him much. All children should know they are loved.

==

After the feast a space was cleared and a fire lit so its sweet scent could fill the meeting place. Inanna excused herself to go to their quarters and prepare for the Ceremony of the Snake. She returned shortly. Her hair was bound high up on her head and her rainbow wings lay closely around her body, covering most of her torso. She appeared to be naked or nearly-so. She stood between the fire and the platform where Hal remained sitting.

A soft rhythm from the drums accompanied the shaman’s entrance into the meeting place. He wore a headdress made from the head of a giant snake and was followed by members of The People, who carried a snakeskin that stretched 30 feet or more in length. Hal shivered unconsciously at the thought of a beast of that dimension moving freely in the world. He’d read up on the Amazon and its native species some time ago, when he first learned of Inanna’s holdings in the region. The green anaconda was a legend he had no interest in meeting.

The shaman wound around the meeting place between the fire and the people gathered for the ceremony. He was followed by his assistants, who moved the skin as a live snake would move. The procession stretched the length of the open space and curled around the fire, nearly circling in on itself before the entire skin was brought into the place. The shaman and his procession passed before the Protector before coming to a halt with the shaman across the fire from the Protector.

His assistants carefully laid the snakeskin down, with the underside up, and Hal saw markings like the ones on Inanna’s snake tattoo. This, then, was how they documented her deeds.

The shaman left his place opposite of the Protector and knelt next to the skin where the markings ceased. Hal estimated it was over halfway up the length of the skin; it was close enough that he could observe without leaving the platform on which he sat. The shaman unrolled a leather pouch and removed tools that resembled charcoal markers, and he began to chant and draw on the skin. Hal saw symbols that represented humans, trees, and fire.

Inanna stopped the shaman with a few words. She gestured toward Hal as she spoke; he recognized his name, the Hunter, among her words. The shaman negated what she said and a brief argument ensued. Inanna silenced him and the musicians with a sharp shake of her head. She turned to Hal.

“I reminded him that you took part in the events of last night, but he insists that the snake is for my story only. He refuses to include your deeds.” She shot the obstinate shaman a look. “We’ve never had this come up before.”

Hal was secretly delighted to hear that. “You’ve never taken another person into battle on behalf of The People?” Perhaps not so secretly, as he could hear the delight in his voice.

“I’ve never had anyone who could handle it,” she said with a smile. “Never mind. I’ll take care of this.”

The Protector unfurled her wings and allowed them to expand to their full breadth before they disappeared. She was, as Hal had guessed, nude except for the neckpiece and wristbands she always wore and a small, beautifully-decorated loincloth. He supposed it was so The People could see the full extent of her snake tattoo at some point during the ceremony.

She raised one arm, pointed toward the entrance at the far end of the meeting place, and spoke loudly, a command that reverberated through the space and beyond. The People froze as she spoke, then they began to shift uncomfortably and bunch together as they turned to the entrance where the Protector’s stare was focused. The shaman got to his feet and watched also, alert and wary.

From out of the darkness a large white snake with emerald green eyes appeared. It moved easily and without hesitation along the length of the silent meeting place. It reached the Protector and climbed her body, winding around her leg and torso, following the path of her tattoo. It came to rest with its head over her heart, white scales glowing against the brown of her skin, green eyes fixed on hers as she calmly watched it settle into place.

The meeting place was so still that Hal could hear the sound of scales as the snake moved along the ground and up Inanna’s body. He could hear the flick of its tongue and its heartbeat. The snake behaved as a well-trained pet determined to obey its master, and Hal wondered if she’d created it on the spot to serve her purpose. He’d never seen anything like it, and from the stunned, awestruck appearance of the rest of the crowd, neither had anyone else.

She petted it gently and the snake transmuted into a second tattoo as its skin dropped at her feet. The quiet plop was accompanied by the sound of sharply-moving air as everyone gasped in shock.

The Protector, now with two snake tattoos, the white one clearly symbolizing her consort, calmly picked up the white snakeskin in one hand. One of her knives appeared in the other. She sliced the skin open along the length of the snake’s belly, and Hal noted fine particles sifting gently to the floor from inside the skin. He decided that she’d burned the snake to ash with a touch, effectively drying the skin as she did.  

The Protector held the opened, flattened snakeskin aloft in both hands and walked in a circle around the fire so everyone could see it and her new tattoo. When she was finished, she laid it out alongside the one used for her story. It was about a third of the length. She returned to her place and signaled for the shaman to continue the ceremony. He took a deep, shaky breath, nodded for the musicians to begin, and knelt. He began to chant and draw on both snakeskins.  

Hal saw the story of their destruction of the logging camps unfold. The Protector chanted to the shaman at one point and Hal saw figures that vaguely resembled the machines he’d blown up drawn on his snakeskin. They took on the forms of living creatures in the shaman’s drawings.

When the shaman set aside his tools to signify the end of their story, the Protector spoke again, moving gracefully as she chanted out the story of their attack on Verdant Opportunity headquarters. The shaman watched and listened, as did the rest of The People. Hal could tell she spoke highly of him by the looks and nods he was given as she told the story. When she finished, the shaman repeated it to himself as he drew the symbols of a large building—actually many small houses stacked on each other—followed by symbols of what Hal thought must be the demons they’d destroyed.

Inanna spoke to Hal as the shaman worked. “I told them about our trip to the city of many peoples,” she said. “I told them we destroyed the home of our enemy, a great building that would hold a hundred homes and that reached into the sky. I said it was guarded by giant beasts from another world that human eyes cannot see.” She arched an eyebrow and smiled at him. “You owe me one. They’re pretty impressed with you right now.”

“Did you tell them about the stench and the foul breath of those giant beasts? That was certainly memorable.” Hal wrinkled his nose at the memory.

“It was memorable, but not something I want memorialized on a tattoo, thank you,” she replied.

“So, the drawings will be tattooed on you. I’m curious to see how that happens.” After the white snake episode, Hal was definitely interested in every part of the Ceremony of the Snake. Inanna had turned it from the ceremonial into the supernatural with a few words and a touch.

The shaman finished his drawings, put away his tools, and moved away from the snakeskins. Tension rose among The People as their shaman took his place with them. Inanna turned to Hal again.

“Now for the fun part,” she said with a laugh.

She stretched out her arms and began chanting to a different rhythm, swaying gently as she did. Hal watched, transfixed, as her tattoos began to move on her body. The giant snake writhed, stretched, and wrapped itself a second time around her torso; the new symbols appeared along its increased length. The symbols of Hal’s successes appeared on his white tattoo as it wound around and along hers, covering it in places where their symbols matched. It coiled around her body smoothly and returned its head to her breast, where it rested once again over her heart.

First a Chinese dragon, now this snake. She carried two symbols of him on her person. This one, Hal noted with satisfaction, caused her no distress. The dragon she’d had tattooed centuries ago had its claws embedded in her skin.

The Protector ceased chanting as the snake tattoos settled into place. The drummers kept their rhythm while she walked another circle around the fire and snakeskins so The People could see the story on her body. When she had completed her circuit, the Protector turned to Hal and offered him her hand. A quick glance and nod toward the doorway of the meeting place told him what she wanted him to do. He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and escorted her formally past the gaping crowd and back to their quarters. The Ceremony of the Snake was complete.


	14. Blood and Treasure

They lounged on the sleeping platform in their quarters, making love by lantern light. Festive sounds drifted from the meeting place, reminding them that their people were still celebrating their renewed life and safety.

Inanna had undressed Hal slowly, with rose-petal kisses and satin touches of her fingertips on his body as she went. She knew he was unsettled by what he’d seen—she could sense it. In spite of being a vampire who had dealt with demons and supernatural rituals, he was suspicious of anything that resembled witchcraft or magic. He needed to move past the ritual and reconnect with the woman, so she had come to him with an unusual delicacy in her manner. She had been pleased and relieved when he’d begun to relax into her touch.

She no longer wore the loincloth; Hal had removed it from her carefully and set it aside before offering her a hand and leading her to their bed. Like tea at the kitchen table, their private time brought them equilibrium.

Hal lowered his head to the Protector’s chest and began kissing along her new snake tattoo, white against her rich brown skin. The symbol of his place in her world. He was spellbound by her—drawn to her in a heady mix of desire and fear—but he needed to feel her against him even as he sought to rationalize what he’d seen.

“Now I understand why your attendants hesitated to wash your tattoo,” Hal said as he brushed his fingers along her body. “It has a life of its own.”

“An illusion,” Inanna murmured. “One I created long ago. It serves a purpose, no more.”

He was put off by the hooded green eyes that seemed to stare at him as they guarded her left breast. “Is this an illusion too?” He kissed the space between those eyes, reclaiming the territory for himself. “The snake seemed real enough. Its skin remains and has become part of the ritual. Did you call it into existence to serve your purpose?”

He teased her nipple with his teeth. She slid a hand into his hair and held his head where it was, encouraging him to linger at her breasts as she answered him.

“I didn’t create that snake, Hal. Only one being is capable of true creation. I just invited it to the party, so to speak.” She hummed her approval of his gentle, playful touch before continuing. “In a world full of diversity there had to be one pale snake with green eyes, right? I just called it to me.”

Hal chuckled in spite of himself, and she hummed with pleasure again as her breast trembled from the reverberations. He lifted his lips to ask another question.

“What if you’d found a 10-inch garden snake instead of the 10-foot monster that answered your call? That would have been anticlimactic, to say the least.”

“How do you know I didn’t?” she teased. “There may have been half-a-dozen for me to choose from. The leftovers may be out there, trying to find their way home right now.”

“Terrifying,” he whispered against her heart as he moved from one breast to the other. “You call creatures to you and make them your pets. Had you tried it before or was it another one of your whims?” He heard another satisfied hum from Inanna as he settled his lips over her other nipple, teeth grazing lightly again.

“I’ve tried it before. Remember the story you found online, of Inanna standing on the backs of two lionesses? I have a way with animals,” she said, “and I love the irony of it all. The woman controls and destroys the snake, turns it into a symbol of a people’s salvation instead of destruction.”

He returned to his place alongside her so he could study her face in the soft light of the lanterns that hung from the posts of their bed. Her restless intelligence sometimes took his full focus—he never knew where a conversation might lead. “It’s a much more pleasing story than the one of Eve and the serpent in the Garden,” he agreed. “Were you present for that one as well?”

“Did I take part in mankind’s fall from grace?” She smiled and kissed him lightly. “No, silly. If I’d been there the snake would’ve lost its tongue. And its life. It’s just a myth, you know. A morality tale.”

“Yes, but we both know the devil is real and temptation is ever-present.”

“We also know that one person’s choice can’t condemn an entire species. What pisses me off about the story of the serpent in the Garden is the way men tell it to make sure all the blames goes to Eve. Adam started it, you know.” She kissed him again, first his lips then the curve of his neck. She moved down to kiss his chest as he had done hers.

“How so?” Hal asked. His hands went to her hair, searching through it for the clasps that held it up. He wanted it unbound.

She held still, kisses suspended while she explained. “The story in Genesis says that God told Adam not to eat the fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Eve told the serpent that they weren’t supposed to eat or touch it. It seems to me Adam embellished when he passed along the warning from God. So, when Eve touched the fruit and lived, she lost faith in the warning.”

“Maybe Adam recognized Eve’s curiosity and sought to keep her safe with the extra warning,” Hal countered. “Women have the insufferable habit of not taking a man at his word.” He caught his breath as Inanna bit down on his nipple. She released him after a moment.

“Men have the insufferable habit of lying and assuming women are gullible enough to fall for it,” she said. “Then when they’re caught in their lies they look for someone else to blame. Like Adam in the story.”

“He merely told the truth.” Hal dropped a handful of gold hair clasps over the side of their bed and unwound her hair from the coil on her head. “Eve gave him the fruit and he ate it.” He smiled as thick black hair slid through his fingers. Much better.

“No, he didn’t just tell the truth. He answered God like a naughty child caught in the act. ‘The woman You made for me gave me the fruit.’ He blamed God for creating Eve in the first place. Like blaming your mother for baking cookies when she catches you eating them right before dinner.”

Hal understood the analogy, even though it was something he’d never experienced as a child. He’d caught Inanna, just before a meal, sneaking the chocolate chip cookies she loved so much. The image of his ferocious warrior and witch woman with cookies and milk, messy ponytail, and horrid t-shirt soothed his nerves and made him smile.

He was roused from his reverie by Inanna’s hair spreading across his chest as her kisses resumed and moved lower on his body. Her voice was broken by the caress of her lips and tongue on his stomach, then his navel and lower.

“What bothers me most—is the idea—that being naked—is inherently evil.” Her voice matched her languorous kisses until she reached her goal, the clinging drip of fluid that strung between Hal’s erect penis and taut belly. She wound her tongue around the tip of his erection as her lips closed over it. She stayed a little while, until the tension in his body told her the foreplay was just about over.

“It’s stupid of people to think the human body is evil at the same time they believe it was created by a loving god. Big Boy isn’t evil,” Inanna said as she brushed her body along Hal’s and let him guide her into position. She knelt over his erection and rubbed her wet heat against it briefly before Hal arched and pushed into her. She smiled at the welcome fullness. “Big Boy is my well-trained ally,” she said with a smirk and the arch of a brow.

“Your ally has been used as a weapon often enough, even against you,” Hal admitted as they began the familiar strokes that always grounded them, no matter how bizarre their lives were.

“A weapon isn’t evil unless it was created to be so,” Inanna said. “It doesn’t choose how it’s used. We use our bodies for good and bad, but that doesn’t make them evil. It makes them human.”

Her hands splayed across his abdomen and slid up to his chest, pressing against his ribcage as she pushed herself up, relaxing the pressure as she lowered. She loved the interplay of his breath and muscles under her as the two of them moved in tandem through their building pleasure.

Her eyes narrowed and a slight frown formed as Hal continued to dispute her theory of good and evil.

“My body left off being human centuries ago and has been driven by evil purposes since. It belongs to the vampire, and through it, the devil.”

“It belongs to me now.” She leaned over to kiss him, the only way she knew to stop his argument. There was no winning side here, there were only myriad choices. He’d made them already, myriad times, and people had lived or died, or had become monsters, because of him.

“I belong to you, body, heart, and mind,” he agreed when the kiss ended.

He acquiesced for the moment and sat them both up, shifting them into gentle undulations as he slipped a hand between them. No need to rush to the finish. He’d give her time to enjoy herself. His fingers began their easy game of teasing arousal and he watched her succumb to him again. Surrender without defeat; victory assured by giving rather than taking. Sex was their love language, their marriage vows repeated and renewed. They offered each other their weaknesses, cherished and protected them, turned them into strengths.

Her breath quickened and deepened, her gasps became whimpers as she twisted and shivered against him. She owned him but he controlled her, made her need him, bound her to him. He would be her air and water, as she was his blood.

He felt the familiar tightening around his erection that signaled her climax but continued, focusing on her hands that gripped his shoulders and ruffled his hair, on her lips parted as she panted and moaned, on the tiny droplets of sweat that formed and coalesced on her temples and chest. He’d lick her there, later. He’d lick her body and savour the subtle tastes of her, flavours that changed with her mood and diet. Every form of her held a world to explore. He would never tire of her.

“Kiss me,” he said. “Let me taste you.”

She smiled and brought him her mouth, and he sucked her lower lip gently before teasing her tongue with his own as he moved in. Hal tasted hints of their dinner and the sweet smoke from the ritual fire. He tasted her arousal, carried in the changes in her body chemistry. Far away and tenuous, like an echo across the vastness between mountains, he tasted what he sought above all else: her blood.

Her intoxicating blood, nearly imperceptible but fiery sweet, instantly spiked his lust. It burst through him and his body thrust upward as he threw back his head. His fangs, dropping too late to seize her, flashed in the lantern light. Her face had fallen to his shoulder. He was sure she didn’t see them.   

Sometimes when Inanna was excited she breathed in deeply and caught the inside of a cheek against her teeth. She didn’t bite, she was careful not to, but the roughened, bruised flesh still shed miniscule bits of tissue and blood. Hal used to avoid kissing her when he saw the hollow inhale—the scent of those few blood cells released into her breath was his warning to stay away.

Nowadays he chased the dangerous prey and let the hunger fuel his passion, daring the vampire to strike and die. He had agreed with Inanna when she’d said that tasting her blood was too dangerous. But one doesn’t become centuries-old vampire royalty without an appreciation for danger. Her body was his playground, his thrill ride. The fact that he could taste a hint of her blood and live made the thrill even better. How much? What was his limit? Could he ever let a drop of her pure, unfiltered blood roll across his palate? On that day, could he resist drinking her dry?

Spent, Hal fell back onto the thinly-cushioned bed. Inanna sagged against him, sweat trickling between her breasts. She slid off and sprawled near him as the humid air barely stirred around them. It would take her a while to cool down.

She knew.

She did not say.

The first time it happened Inanna saw the curse flare red, burst, and disintegrate over him as he came violently inside her. For a moment she thought his semen had seared her internally, but she realized it wasn’t so. Power, yes. But not the intensity of evil that can do that kind of damage.

She waited for Hal to tell her what had happened. It must have been contact with her blood; it must have been that deep, demanding kiss. When he didn’t explain, she decided he didn’t want to worry her. He would handle it himself and make sure it didn’t happen again.

When it did happen, she realized he chose to embrace something he had formerly avoided. He kissed her passionately when he had formerly pulled away. Hal was playing with fire—the curse literally passed like a flash flame over his body as the taste of her blood translated into another powerful orgasm. But it didn’t linger, it once again dispersed instantly. His fangs dropped and receded quickly. He barely had time to hide them from her before they were gone.

She thought about their love-making, replayed it in her mind, and she could see that he had watched for a certain combination of events, possibly encouraged them. He had studied her too closely; he had held back and given himself to her pleasure, but had kept his mouth near her own. He had avoided his favorite activity and had pleasured her with his fingers instead. Fingering added to fucking, so he could watch his control over her. Holding back his own climax until he couldn’t wait any longer. Then the kiss and the explosion.

Hal had a secret. He could tolerate miniscule amounts of her blood without going mad or dying. Under the right circumstances her blood became a precarious aphrodisiac. He raced his dick against his fangs, and his dick won. She won as well, the prize of an attentive lover and extended orgasm.

Well then. Hal had a secret. He was a man who prized his secrets and who needed them to feel secure. He had lost many of them to her—some he’d freely offered and some she’d taken. He kept this one and so did she. After all, who was she to condemn another’s secrets? She had plenty of her own, kept from everyone, even from her immortal family. Her best-kept, most dangerous secrets had at one time been shared by her brother or her lover, but the foolish thrills of youth had become hard lessons learned.

Wisdom never comes without cost. She’d learned that the unshared, unspoken secret is the only true secret in existence.

Eventually Hal stirred, rolled over lazily, and propped himself on his elbows next to her. He began tracing the sweat along her body with his tongue, but he held himself away from her so as not to make either one of them any warmer than they already were. The humidity bothered him, especially now that they were done making love and the extra slickness of their sweat was no longer an advantage.

“Every form of you tastes different to me, and even those tastes change,” he whispered. “Jungle sweat is more pungent than Wales sweat.”

“And more plentiful,” she whispered back. “Why are we whispering?”

“The effort needed to speak aloud makes me perspire.”

She laughed. “Smartass. You pull off the grouchy joke better than anyone else I know.”

He nipped her side and hmphed into the curve of her underarm. She thought she felt him smile briefly as well.

“You need a shave,” he said.

“I’m a natural woman. We don’t shave our pits. As if that’s a problem for you, geezer. You’ve found your way through more hair than I have.”

“Geezer? You use an Americanism to describe a man older than your country. How quaint.”

“Fogey. Curmudgeon.”

“I resent those. I may at times resemble them, but I still resent them. What about ‘adventurous’? ‘Dashing’? ‘Exciting’?”

He played with her navel, having followed a bead of sweat to find where it pooled.

“You sucked wine from my navel, long ago,” she said. “You licked it from me as you lick my sweat now.”

This time he let her see his smile. “I’ll use any excuse to get my mouth on your body.”

“We should go diamond hunting tomorrow, Mr. Dashing Adventurous Man.”

“I’d like that, Ms. Beautiful Adventuress. Perhaps I’ll find one suitable for your finger.” He lifted her left hand to his lips and kissed her ring finger. “You should have the finest diamond in the world.”

“Getting sentimental on me?” she teased gently. “I’m thinking we need to get you a nice big diamond of your own. I see how your eyes light up every time you think about it. Maybe we can carve one into an ashtray to set by your humidor.”

He raised his head from her abdomen. “A red diamond as an ashtray? What a waste.” He kissed the curve of her hip. “Better suited in a diadem for your royal brow, my queen.”

“I don’t need a crown. They tend to make their wearers think too highly of themselves. Besides, carving a diamond into a crown really is a waste. Think of all the leftovers and scraps.”

Hal looked up at her again and waited until she lifted her head slightly to meet his look. He was incredulous bordering on awestricken. “There cannot be a single stone that large,” he said.

“I thought you’d given up deciding what the world is and is not capable of,” she replied.

“My God! I can’t conceive of it.”

“You will.” She fingered his hair idly, playing with the tuft that sprang from the middle of his crown. It never wanted to behave. She loved it while he fought it. Funny how that worked.

Hal moved her legs apart and kissed the inside of a thigh. “A crown for you, with the centre removed and used as an ashtray for me. How perfectly representational.” He kissed her again and tickled his nose in her pubic hair, still damp. “Natural woman. Natural queen. Natural goddess.”

“Unnatural lover. Would you rather sleep or fuck? We have a big day tomorrow.”

“I’d rather fuck, then sleep, then fuck again.” He positioned himself smoothly between her legs and grinned up the length of her body at her; she watched him from between the flattened mounds of her breasts. He nuzzled her pubic hair again. “But first I’ll make you beg,” he said.

He reached her clitoris immediately. She was right—he’d found his way through much more hair, and for much less reward. Hal was expert at discovering and exploiting hidden treasures. He needed only the most rudimentary of maps.

= = =

It was just a little gash in the hillside, overgrown and invisible until she pointed it out. They had to stoop, nearly crawl in fact, to get inside. It was several more yards until they could stand. Hal’s backpack snagged on the rocks overhead and he was immediately covered in grit. He didn’t particularly care for it—he’d spent far too much of his time on this trip dealing with dirt and sweat.

_Focus on the red diamond,_ he thought _. These inconveniences will be meaningless in the end._ Hal’s enthusiasm returned as he tried to imagine the gem, perhaps embedded in ancient stone, waiting for him. He was relieved when the ground under his feet and the walls around him lost their crumbling gravelly nature. Solid rock was trickier at times but cleaner overall.

By the time he could stretch to his full height, daylight was so far behind that even his predator’s vision was useless. Hal switched on his torch and was nearly blinded as it reflected off countless facets surrounding him. Crystalline blood, cold and brilliant. Everywhere the light struck, even under his feet. It rendered him speechless. Thoughtless. He could only stare, once his eyes had adjusted to the light.

Inanna was still moving. “Big ones are further back,” she called over her shoulder.

“Christ! What is this place?”

He forced himself to take a step, then another. It seemed wrong to tread on gemstones, the kind of criminal extravagance even Mr. Snow wouldn’t consider. The contents of this cave held more value than Snow’s empire at its peak.

“The source, as far as I can tell,” she said as she watched his careful progress.

“But this is nowhere near the areas where red diamonds have been found and mined.”

She shrugged and started walking again. “Well, it would be silly to lead people right to the door.”

So, she had taken stones from this place and planted them for people to find—how long ago? She’d recognized their beauty and value and had given them to humanity. Not many of them, just enough to make mankind fall in love and hunger for more. She’d salted the mine, an old trick used to dupe greedy treasure seekers into buying worthless mines and investing in useless properties. She probably preceded the old trick. Hell, she may have invented it! But she hadn’t swindled humanity; she’d devised a game of hide-and-seek with a unique reward.

“Why salt the mine?” he asked. “Why not just keep them all for yourself?”

She started to answer, but Hal interrupted as it hit him. “Wait! I understand. Good God, you’re brilliant. Beautiful and brilliant! In order to have value, a thing must be known. Jesus Christ. Woman, your mind is possibly the sexiest part of you.”

Inanna smiled at him. “Flatterer,” she said. “You think in terms of decades and centuries rather than days and weeks. Your mind is just as sexy and devious as mine.”

“Never, my lady. I’m in awe at the scope of your thinking.”

They reached the end of the cavern, a space about the size of their living room at Honolulu Heights. The uneven surfaces of rounded walls, ceiling, and floor were covered in countless red diamonds in all sizes and shapes. Although unpolished they were clearly gemstones of immense value, shown by the deep red and purple colors and the clarity that was a hallmark throughout. Hal noticed that the stones seemed to change color depending on how directly they were caught by their torch beams. It was a unique feature of red diamonds, the color caused by an atomic anomaly in the carbon structure itself.

“Time for a drink and a think,” Inanna said. “See if you can set your flashlight, sorry, your _torch_ , so it shines about here.” She shook her head at the archaic term and waved toward a ledge as she propped her flashlight to illuminate it. “We’re due for a bite to eat too.”

They’d left the village early and hadn’t eaten breakfast. They had energy bars and Inanna had indulged in some of the local flora along the way, but Hal had declined. He didn’t want an adverse reaction to foreign food to ruin his adventure, not with the millions of insects already putting a damper on things. Now, after trudging over half a day through rough terrain and a tropical environment, he was ready for rest, water, and food. The cool stable atmosphere in the cave was a relief, even if it was still mildly humid. He sat down near Inanna and took a healthy drink from his canteen.

“What is the topic for our think?” he asked.

“We need to choose our stone,” she explained as she got a packet of leftover roast pork and some flatbread from her backpack. “We want one of suitable size and quality that will be relatively easy to dislodge.”

“Can we also think about why we fought our way through the jungle for most of a day when you could have transported us here instead?” Hal accepted her offer of flatbread, piled on some pork, and folded it into a sandwich.

“That’s easy. I don’t want any attention, human or supernatural,” she replied as she made her own sandwich. “We’ve put on quite a display lately. Lucifer knows we’re in the area, that’s a guarantee.”

Hal thought that no matter what front they put on things, nothing could be ordinary in their lives. Not even a hike and a picnic. Here they were, deep in the rainforest, in a cave encrusted with precious gemstones, discussing the devil over sandwiches. He swallowed his bite of food and took a sip of water before speaking.

“True. But the poisoning gave us the perfect reason to be here, so surely there are no suspicions about our other motive. The devil isn’t interested in our treasure hunt, is he? Is this place a secret even from supernatural elements?”

“No secret, and probably no suspicions, but Lucifer is careful. He’s probably already warned Hetty that we’re nearby. She will have fled or will be in hiding. I thought we should dial down the drama for a little while so she’ll relax her guard.”  

“You talk as though Hetty really is Lucifer’s bitch. I’ve known her for centuries and have seen no sign of a relationship.”

“I’ve known Lucifer longer than you’ve known Hetty. I know his games. She’s just his type, a ruined child rebuilt on a platform of evil, claiming more power than she knows how to handle. He’d be a fool to ignore her, and Lucifer is no fool. He’ll manipulate her to control everything she controls. He’ll offer her what she wants in order to use her. And what does Hetty want?”

“Me. Dead. Possibly me as her partner, if she remembers my value.”

“And we want Hetty dead and the vampire compound destroyed. I want the annihilation of vampires as a species, but that’s a larger goal.”

“I’ve said this before, nearly a century ago and in different company, but it seems true again. We are at war with the devil.”

“It’s early days, but yes, we are. I told you, Hal. Lucifer will come for me. He will use Hetty to destroy us both, if we let him.”

“The scope of your thinking truly is extraordinary.”

She brushed off his compliment. “Old habit. Lucifer and I have been at this for a while now. He used to consider me his greatest threat. Not sure that’s true these days, but still. I need to be mindful of him at all times.” She sighed and there was a quiet moment as Hal considered the millennia she must have spent out-fighting and outwitting the ultimate evil. Terrifying didn’t begin to cover it.

“Enough of that,” Inanna said. “Back to the business at hand. We must choose our stone. What do you think?”

He looked around the diamond-strewn space, still surreal to him. “I think I’m outclassed and awestruck. I don’t know where to begin.”

“Begin with what you know,” she said simply.

“What I see around me so far overreaches what I know that my mind boggles,” Hal said as he got up and began to carefully walk the room. He touched gemstones as he spoke, as if he needed to prove them real.

“True red diamonds are thought to be extremely rare, with less than a hundred of any significance known. But I see thousands. The largest red diamond is, if I remember, just over 5 carats polished? A trifle compared to what surrounds me. The largest gem-quality diamond ever discovered was over 3000 carats rough. There are hundreds larger in these walls.”

She interrupted. “The largest ever—that’s the one in the British crown jewels now. It was cut into several excellent stones, if I remember my recent history. How big was it to start with, in layman’s terms? About a pound and a half, I think.”

“Yes, if you figure the conversion of carats to standard English measure, it was just under a pound and a half,” he agreed. “Two of the finished stones are among the largest diamonds in the world. They are in a scepter and crown worn by kings and queens of England. I’ve seen them. They are extraordinary pieces.”

Hal cupped a large red diamond in his hand and pushed to see how well-anchored it was in the surrounding rock. “It will be a pity to see them so thoroughly eclipsed by what we bring back from our expedition.”

Inanna looked at the gleaming gems in the room. “I first saw these by firelight,” she said. “Their colors shifted as the flames in my torch, a literal torch, shifted. They look different in the beams of our flashlights. You won’t be able to judge their real color until we get them into the sunlight, you know.”

“Them?” Hal didn’t hide the hopeful note in his voice.

“Ha! Yes, them.” She stood next to him. “We should bring out several and have a good look at them, choose the ones we think have the most potential. We’ll take the best of the lot and have them appraised. I’m no expert, we need someone else for that. I know size matters, but that’s not all that matters.” She gave him a sideways teasing look. “Quality counts. Flawless is very hard to find.”

“I’d say nearly impossible,” Hal agreed, returning her look with a half-smile. “Where do you take something like this for appraisal? Who appraises a myth?”

“I know a guy.”

“You know a guy. Do you ever _not_ know a guy?”

“What can I say? I’ve been around, I have connections.” She laughed. “So, let’s get to work.”

 


End file.
